


Make It Good, Make It Better

by Jack_R



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_R/pseuds/Jack_R
Summary: It's one of the worse evenings. He feels the routine itching under his skin, restless and howling and his left foot throbs, but he counts the points for the thousandth time and wants to scream, because it's just not good enough. Nikiforov has gotten better since the last year and Yuuri cannot afford to be anything less that the best. (And he does not just want to beat Nikiforov, no - Yuuri needs to break him, he wants to ruin the beautiful golden darling for the world no matter the cost.)
---
The one where they really hate each other  - until they don't. (Rivals!AU)





	1. 2008

Even though Viktor smiles as he leaves the rink, there is something off about him.

The year's 2008, the place's Everett, the US and while the crowd cheers for him, Viktor quietly breathes in and out and in and keeps his smile bright and easy when he waits for his score to appear. Yakov frowns and just as the number pops up - 98.30, that's good, isn't it? - Viktor blinks.

"And that's a very good score for Viktor Nikiforov, one of this year's favourites! Nikiforov, aged 19, has won the Grand Prix before, not even mentioning the national competitions and European champions, and he's also the last year's winner of the World's Championship. This is his third year in the senior section. Nikiforov's young but incredibly talented - and currently in the second place."

He keeps smiling and waves as they walk away from the audience and the cameras. As soon as he's alone with Yakov, Viktor stops.

"Who?" he demands an answer, feeling somehow numb inside.

Yakov shrugs.

"Some Japanese kid. I’ve never seen him before, to be honest."

Viktor does not answer. It’s 2008 and it's supposed to be his year. He knows there is no one better than him out there, none of these people are half as good as him - he's young and brilliant and already surpassing everyone's expectations, his short program is incredible and this year, the Grand Prix is going to be his.

But somehow, he's second. And as he stands in the artificial light of lightbulbs inside the stadium, something inside him twists.

"Well, at least we know there is a lot more work ahead of you, Viktor," Yakov says. "Now focus on your free program. You’ll beat him there."

"Yes," Viktor breathes out and nods. "I will."

This is nothing but a temporary setback. Tomorrow, he'll show them all.

Yes.

\---

When Yuuri's eighteen, he qualifies for the Senior Grand Prix series. It’s the first time he's going to skating in such a high-profile competition and his knees feel very weak.

"Don’t let me down," his coach says and Yuuri forces himself to breathe, smiling brightly.

"I won't," he promises.

\---

The final day of Skate US, Viktor climbs into the first place after his performance, scoring well above 180 and breaking the world record for the first time. He glows as they hang a gold medal around his neck, smiling fiercely. The stadium cheers for him and everything feels just right.

"Congratulations on your win." the Japanese boy shakes his hand with polite smile and leaves soon. Viktor does not smirk. He does not.

(This is the first time they meet, but not the last.)

\---

Yuuri is not disappointed. (This is a lie)

He flies back to Japan with a silver in his luggage and something heavy on his chest. Everyone's excited beyond measure, congratulating him, but he can't bring himself to care. He almost had it - almost, but not quite. (He tries not to think about the sleepless night before the free skate and the smirk in Viktor Nikiforov’s eyes, but fails to.)

His coach has him watch his performance and points out every flaw, every hesitation and every mistake. Yuuri hates it, but brings himself to see all of it and the next time he gets on ice, he refuses to repeat any of them.

They also watch all of the other competitors, looking for weak spots - and Yuuri catches the weak knee of the Czech skater, he sees the trembling arms of the American competitor and he sees the slight hesitation before Nikiforov goes for a triple axel and suddenly feels a lot surer. They are not perfect. They can be beaten.

After the Skate US, Viktor dominates the Cup of China, qualifying first for final competition. Yuuri smiles mildly, watching him receive the medal, remembering the not-quite-sneer on Nikiforov’s face and thinks: just wait. Just you wait.

Yuuri wins Trophée de France and receives his first gold, the stadium erupting in cheers for him. His coach does not smile or throw a celebration, instead forcing him to drill again and again and again until the routine's down under his skin, until he feels it inside his bones, until it becomes a part of him. Yuuri does not protest and does it again and again and again even when his feet turn bloody and torn, even when the pain ceases to exist, leaving him weightless.

(Because he will never be as talented as Nikiforov and the others, but he can - has to - work harder to beat them. This is who Yuuri is.)

The worse comes comes later, though, when he lies awake in his bed and sweats through the night, thinking about the mistakes he made and the one he can - will - make. He sees all of them - his mother, father, his coach, other skaters, Nikiforov - and they look at him, some with thinly veiled pity, some openly disgusted, whispering between each other. He sees Tokyo - hopeful, eager Tokyo that expects him to give them a medal for the very first time and he sees their faces turn sour, disappointed in him. He hates it and cries quietly, swallowing down sobs.

In the end, this does not stop him from getting up every morning and doing it everything all over again.

When he skates the routine for the last time, it's snowing outside and the night has already swallowed the ice rink. He jumps and lands and spins and twists and does it again and then he stops when the music ceases to play. Breathing loudly in the silence of the rink, his throat feels very dry and his chest has gone tight. His coach looks at him.

"Good," she says, finally. "Good."

And Yuuri smiles and takes a deep, shaking breath and then another and then he's going limp, gasping for oxygen. His head is spinning and his legs finally give up and he crumbles down on the surprisingly cold ice and his coach is running towards him, but that's okay.

"Good," he repeats, his voice soft and small, and he's laughing, his ribs too tight and too sore. "Good."

He can win.

He will win.

\---

The next time they meet, it's the Grand Prix Final in Korea.

Viktor’s ready - this is his year. He is the clear favourite. He will win.

He does everything the way he's supposed to - and even not only that, he's _better_ , breaking the world record set by himself in the free skate once enough.

It’s not enough.

\---

"And here we have the biggest surprise of this year, Japanese skater Katsuki Yuuri! Coming out of nowhere, this man has dominated the short program, delivering the highest technical difficulty performance ever and breaking the previous world record by several points. And after this free skate, he has truly surpassed everyone's expectations, setting his personal best along with a new world record shortly after Viktor Nikiforov established the previous one. Katsuki, the young hope of Japanese figure skating, is making history this year - and here we have it, folks, it’s official! Katsuki Yuuri, the dark horse of this year’s series, wrestles the first place from the junior star, Viktor Nikiforov, and wins the golden medal! What an amazing twist - congratulations to Katsuki Yuuri!"

\---

Viktor tries to smile (after all, he's still the second best in the world), but as he watches the Japanese boy take his place in front of the stadium, he finds that he can't.

This has never happened to him before.

After the ceremony is over and the people start leaving, he slowly skates to the edge of podium and walks out. Yakov follows him, saying some things that Viktor probably should care about, but he ignores them anyway.

(Viktor’s nineteen and he has lost for the very first time. He’s not sure what he is supposed to do next.)

"I’ll pick you up later, for the banquet." Yakov says, right before he shuts the door.

Viktor slowly walks to the bed, feeling not quite awake. The silver medals hangs heavy over his neck, swinging back and forth, hitting his chest, the pain dull and low. Makkachim jumps up on the bed, pushing Viktor with his head and whines, confused. The room is strangely silent but for Viktor's own breath.

Finally, he reaches out for the dog and buries his face in Makkachim's fur, soft and warm.

"I don't know what to do now, Makkachim." he whispers, suddenly feeling very young and very fragile.

The dog whines in response.

"Yeah. I know."

Then there is silence for a very long time.

\---

The thing about Yuuri is that he is _good_.

No one quite expects him to be. His family would be happy if he stayed right where he was, growing up to be a nice yet slightly average person, if he got married and fathered his two and a half children. They love him anyway, with his bruised legs, always busy schedule and lack of friends - but Yuuri knows that they are not quite sure whether he had to do all of this. Whether it was worth it (the tears, the blood, the sweat).

But when's Yuuri on the ice, his head is clear and the music is loud, he feels happier than anywhere else. And sure, sometimes he hates it, hates the blood on his socks, hates the bland taste of yogurt and cereals in the morning (never katsudon, because that's not a healthy and balanced diet, now is it) and hates that he's never had a best friend or a girlfriend, because there isn’t time for that in his life - but somehow, when he stands on the podium, blood running hot in his veins and the world watching, it is all worth it.

The thing is that Yuuri was always good, even when the world didn't trust him, but this is the first time he gets to be better.

It feels very strange.

\---

The thing about Viktor is that he's _better_.

He's more talented, he's more daring, he's more surprising - he's more than everyone expects, he's better than the others and always been, dashing through the junior competition and crushing his rivals, graceful, effortless, charming. (Viktor's sharp as razor and cuts twice as deep and when he smiles and poses for the photographs, gold shining on his chest, you can always see his teeth.)

This is not bragging, mind you. This is who Viktor is.

And to find himself in a situation where he suddenly _isn't_ -

Well.

The thing is that for Viktor, being good was never enough. And yet  - here's he is. Good, but not better.

It feels very strange.

\---

Yuuri walks into the ballroom slightly dazed, his new suit itching and pulling at his neck. The room is buzzing and everyone's eager to meet the man of the evening and Yuuri faintly thinks about wasps nests and swarms. His coach steers him towards the important people, who shake his hand and pour compliments all over him and he's not quite sure whether he can breathe or not.

He meets the other competitors too.

Some of them are genuinely happy to congratulate him.

Some less so.

(He finds Nikiforov last.)

"Congratulations," the Russian offers with a very affectionate (and very fake, Yuuri thinks) smile. "Amazing performance!"

Yuuri looks at him and sees the slight redness of his eyes, the tie hanging too low and the emptiness lurking behind the brilliant blue eyes.

"Thank you," Yuuri says and a part of him is horrified. "You were good as well."

"I was, wasn't I?" says Nikiforov and there is something very soft about it.

Yuuri wants to tell him something - but then he stops and remembers the smirk Nikiforov wore when he had beaten him in Atlantic City and something inside him hardens.

"Not quite good enough, though," he offers lightly and walks away.

(Viktor stands there for a very long time.)

\---

Viktor leaves the banquet early, thoroughly sick. He can't bear it - the pitying looks of other skaters, Yakov disappointment and the memory of Katsuki’s arrogant face. It’s hard enough being a loser, but the cold hate he feels when he thinks about the other man-

This is not who he is. This is thoroughly and horribly wrong.

(He does not throw up, but it’s close.)

\---

Yuuri drinks a lot that evening and tries not to think.

It’s hard, but he manages and as he stumbles towards his hotel room, he finally feels victorious. He won, wiping the smirk from Nikiforov’s stupid face - that's good, isn't it? He should be proud, really. (And somewhere inside, he knows that this is not right and that the horrible feeling in his stomach has more to do with himself that Nikiforov, but that's something he'll deal with later.)

He almost manages to convince himself that everything is precisely the way it is supposed to be, when he runs into Nikiforov in the corridor.

The other man looks at him and his eyes turn cold.

"Oh, no smile this time?" Yuuri beams at him, feeling very bitter and upset. This is not the way winning was supposed to feel - and Nikiforov is here and Yuuri wants him to feel worse that he does, because he had no right to take this away from him.

"That’s too bad."

Viktor does not answer, but he looks at Yuuri and he seems terrifying, tall, pale and angry.

It does not feel real at all, Yuuri thinks, detached, and he laughs, because it’s so incredibly strange and the alternative would be crying and like _hell_ he's going there.

Nikiforov suddenly moves, all of that pent-up energy released and pins him against the wall.

“Don’t.” He breathes out, his voice rough and Yuuri shivers, feeling very warm. The collar of his skirt is askew and Nikiforov notices that too, watching a blush spills on his milky, white throat.

Yuuri deliberately swallows and looks him in the eyes, drunk on champagne, victory and something entirely different.

“Or what?” He breathes out, the air suffocating him and watches Nikiforov eyes go dark and thinks about broken bones and bruises and then Nikiforov _moves_ , quick as a viper and Yuuri holds his breath and Nikiforov’s mouth is on Yuuri's and his tongue in his mouth, vicious and dripping with poison and,  _oh god_ , Yuuri's dazed but pushing back and he bites him, tasting the angry words spilling from the other man's mouth and grabs a fist full of Nikiforov's too fancy shirt and drags him closer.

This is easier than feeling, he realises later while tearing down Nikiforov's suit, this isn't - but then everything is too much and he struggles to breathe and he can't think-

So he doesn't.

\---

Viktor is gone by the morning, leaving Tokyo and Katsuki behind. Yakov is already working on his routines, and there’s the upcoming World Championship to think about. It’s his chance to get back on track and Viktor’s determined not to let it go.

He does not think about Katsuki. (However, when he later sees the skater on TV, walking slow and careful as he leaves the hotel, Viktor smirks.)


	2. 2009

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri can already tell it's going to be one of the worse years.

When Yuuri wakes up the next morning, he feels horrible.

His head throbs and he winces when he sits up, looking around the empty room. The sheets are a mess and someone has broken the reading lamp, knocking it down on the floor, dull shards scattered on the floor. For a moment, he's terribly confused - but then Yuuri remembers.

"No," he says, very quietly. Slowly, he closes his eyes and buries his face in his palms.

Two hours later, when his coach comes for him, everything is in perfect order and Yuuri's packed. He keeps his face light as he leaves the hotel (that's hard, but he think he manages well enough) and talks to reporters about his victory.

"What are you planning to do next?" One of them asks. Yuuri shrugs.

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it? We are going to go for the nationals next and hopefully continue from there," he says with a lot more confidence than he really feels.

Later, his coach looks at him strangely, but he refuses to look back. After a moment, she sighs.

"We'd better get started, then."

\---

Viktor is very good at pretending.

He fakes his way through the interviews, smiling cheerfully as he answers questions that hurt inside (How do you feel about losing to Katsuki Yuuri, one of the reporters asks, and if Viktor was to answer truthfully he would probably have to scream, but they can't really have that so he beams instead and says the obligatory "It's a competition" and "I'm looking forward to the next time").

2009 rolls around quick and the anger does not go away. On the New Year's Eve, Viktor drinks more than he probably should and fucks a ballerina and it's not bad, per se - she's good, very bendy, but she touches him too gently, too carefully. It's not bad, he decides, (but it's not what he wants). He dates her friend instead, but they break up soon after that. It’s Viktor’s fault and he’s perfectly fine with that.

He comes to the rink late that day. Yakov looks at him and Viktor doesn’t turn away, but if he was a bit younger, he would.

"This will not do." His coach pronounces and grips his shoulder. "Listen, Vitya, you could be winning this season - you know it, I know it, everyone knows it - hell, _even Katsuki_ knows it. But you have to get yourself together first. I can help you along the way, but it’s really about what you have to do by yourself."

Viktor closes his eyes and thinks about Tokyo, forcing himself to recall the shame he felt standing behind the Japanese boy and then he breathes in and opens his eyes.

"Okay." He says. "Tell me about the routine."

\---

2009 comes quickly and Yuuri can already tell it's going to be one of the worse years.

There is a strange emptiness lurking in his chest that he can’t quite explain. (Winning was supposed to feel good. Winning was supposed to mean happiness and calm, winning was supposed to set all things straight and make it better. Winning shouldn't claw at him from the inside and keep him awake at night.)

The Nationals come the closest to what he has imagined - the crowds go wild for him as he performs his golden routines and he remembers to smile when the other skaters ask him for him for photos and autographs. Some of them are so young and Yuuri thinks about the way they look at him a lot.

Did he use to be like them as well? Somehow, he finds that he can't remember.

(It's getting close to 2am and Yuuri stares into the night. The Four Continents are up next and they all expect him to win. He does not know whether he can do that.)

\---

Viktor tries to be honest with himself, most of the time.

That has never been easy for him - lying comes to Viktor naturally, always did. He remembers being five years and bitter, jealous of all the other kids who came home from holidays tanned and telling stories about sea and sun while he had only sore muscles and bruised feet to show. He remembers spinning his own - very fake - tale with a smile on his lips and he remembers the shame, white, blinding and overwhelming when they called him out. (Next time, the liar thought, I just won't get caught.)

Still, sometimes he messes up, confusing his words and smiling just the wrong way. That happens less though, as he grows older.

The point is - Viktor lies a lot. He's not particularly proud of that, too, but it's who he is. He makes up stories. He weaves narratives, spins half-truths, clothing the real and true in deceit. The very ugly truths, these he tries to hide the hardest. (This is what is going to happen to the memory of 2008 GPF and what came after. Not yet, but soon.)

But he tries to be honest with himself. He struggles with that, but he tries, he really does.

After all, if he cannot trust himself, who else is left?

(He refuses to answer that.)

\---

By the time Four Continents are over, Yuuri already knows that there is something wrong with him. He wins, but the short program feels strange and unnatural, too gentle and too calm and the judges see that too, reacting with lower presentation scores. It's not enough to change the actual results, but it shakes him and he messes up his triple axel in the free skate next.

When they leave the kiss and cry, his coach looks torn.

"Yuuri-"

"I don't want to talk about it now," he interrupts her, cold sweat drying on his back and his feet hurting worse than he's used to.

She looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn't.

\---

Viktor rushes through the Nationals and Europeans like he's burning up, taking gold at both events, desperate to prove himself to the world. He wakes up at dawn and listens to both of his songs on repeat, the voices echoing in his head even when he puts down the headphones. Lilia shouts at him and he doesn't scream back, forcing himself to feel, trying to see the music and to taste the soft keys of the piano. (He fails to, but he's getting closer.)

Yakov stops him, finally, the week before the Worlds, after they have changed the last jump. "That's better," he says. "Now go to sleep."

Viktor, trembling, his feath unsteady and a voices screaming in his head, goes.

xxx

Yuuri's plane is late and he has a lot of time to think before he makes it to Los Angeles.

He thinks about Nikiforov's smirking face and he thinks about the bruises on his wrists and he thinks about the triple axel at Four Continents. He thinks about the golden medals he left in his empty apartment and the way the young skaters have looked at him at the Nationals and he thinks about cloth tearing under his hands. He thinks about how his short program has turned wrong and he thinks about his parents, watching the competition on TV and he thinks, this is _enough_.

Yuuri's not letting Nikiforov get to him this time.

That plan, however, promptly goes up in a smoke the evening after he arrives, when Viktor drags him off to his room and fucks him into the mattress, all while Yuuri keeps himself from screaming, instead demanding, "harder, Nikiforov, that's all you got?"

When Viktor does as he's been told, Yuuri buries his nails into Nikiforov's back and _drags_ them down, leaving his mark deep under his skin, red and angry and _vicious_.

The next day, he watches Nikiforov move around the rink, and when he sees him wince, he smiles and thinks, _good_.

It's not a particularly nice smile, but Yuuri hasn't been a particularly nice person lately, so figures.

\---

Viktor know that he's not a good man.

He lies through his teeth and smiles when he'd rather cry. He takes from people too easily and gives back too little and he forgets about the things he does not consider important. He's petty and self-assured, full of entitlement and greed, longing for more, never satisfied with good, demanding better. This is what makes him a winner. (This is why he's is so lonely, burning down bridges, never satisfied.)

But at least he tries to hide that.

Katsuki, on the other hand, doesn't. The boy is full of himself, never bothering to talk to any of the other skaters, smiling thinly and delivering sharp sentences. He's disgustingly arrogant as he glides through the halls, haughty, aloof and untouchable. Viktor hates him, hates the soft accent and the way he seems more of a marble statue than a person. He wants nothing more than to bring him down, make him sweat, _scream_. (That's why Viktor remembers biting down on Katsuki’s shoulder and breaking the skin, something warm and salty on his tongue and the boy shuddering.)

Yes, he might be bad, but Katsuki is worse.

\---

"And here comes Katsuki Yuuri, this year's biggest surprise. After his incredible win at the GPF last year, everyone's eyes are on Japan's newest star during this World Championships. Chris, what do you say - can he continue his golden streak from the Nationals and Four Continents?"

"Well, Johny, I wouldn't be so sure - we have seen Katsuki a month ago and he seems very different from the man who shocked everyone last December. Remember, this is someone who has struggled with his short program quite a lot since the Grand Prix. My money would be on Viktor Nikiforov. Nikiforov has proven himself multiple times to be one of the best skaters of his generation  - and he has recently won the Europeans with a very memorable performance. And sure, Katsuki may have beaten him once, but I don't think Nikiforov is going to let him do that again.”

"That's certainly true, Chris, but let's not forget that no one expected Katsuki to win the Grand Prix as well. I wouldn't write him off just yet. Live from Los Angeles, you are watching NBC Sports and we'll be right back with our coverage of World Figure Skating Championship!"

\---

While Yuuri waits for his turn, he feels very alone.

There are other skaters, of course, stretching and talking. Nikiforov chats with a group of girls that giggle and touch their hair, flirting, and he smiles very brightly. The Czech skater is talking with the Chinese competitor, looking at something at their phones and the Canadian skaters are all sitting together. He hears them saying his name, but forces himself not to listen. (They don't like him, that's for sure.)

He clenches his fist, blunt nails digging into the soft meat and tries to think about something else instead.

Yuuri does not have friends. He traded them for ice and reflectors. He would say that he does not regret that, but that wouldn’t be true.

(Sometimes, he thinks about a world where things would be different. A world where he would have gone easier, a world where he stayed in Hatseku and smiled a bit more and waited for his bones to grow before breaking them.)

They call his name next. He stands up, not looking at any of them.

Yuuri does not have friends, but as long as he keeps winning, he can tell himself that it was worth it.

\---

Later, he meets Nikiforov in the hallway. The Russian smiles at him and makes a show out of congratulating him, and then, just before he leaves, he leans closer.

"You looked a lot better on your knees," he whispers into his ear and Yuuri _chokes_.

(This isn't what I wanted, he thinks weakly from very far away.)

\---

Viktor watches the whole time Katsuki's on ice. He sees the way the boy’s too stiff and too angry and when the other skater falls, he exhales a bit too quickly for the others not to notice. That's okay, though. No one really likes Katsuki.

He still applauds, his smile turning a bit less forced.

Afterwards, when points are counted, Viktor takes the title by a very acceptable margin. The crowd roars for him as he stands on the podium and Katsuki watches him with palpatable hate in his eyes. Viktor does not bother to look at him back.

After all, this is how it should be. Viktor belongs up here – and Katsuki does not.

\---

After the championship, Yuuri does not talk much.

His coach does not force him to. He's got a new season before him and a thirst to claw his way back up to the top. When he finishes his short program, it's harsh and violent and hurting him and yet he feels blood humming in his ears as he twist and _pulls_ , the relentless beat pounding in his chest, dropping again and again and again. He spins quick and jumps highs and thinks, not enough. Not quite yet.

It's one of the worse evenings. He feels the routine itching under his skin, restless and howling and his left foot throbs, but he counts the points for the thousandth time and wants to scream, because it's just _not good enoug_ h. Nikiforov has gotten better since the last year and Yuuri cannot afford to be anything less that the best. (And he does not just want to beat Nikifor, no - Yuuri needs to break him, he wants to ruin the beautiful golden darling for the world no matter the cost.)

"I'm going to turn the last one into a quad flip." He says to his coach. She pauses, measuring him calmly.

He knows that she's sees right through him and he knows that taking Nikiforov's signature jump away from him won't go unnoticed, but he does not care about that anymore. It's too late for him to be making this kind of decision, but he needs to-

"All right," she says at last and he feels something inside breaking and flooding him. "But it's going to hurt."

"I'm ready for that." He answers. ("It already does," he doesn't add.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before it gets better, it has to get really bad.
> 
> I still don't know anything about figure skating. Big thanks to the lovely StillinTraining who helped with that.


	3. 2010 - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end notes for warnings.

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the 2010 Olympics men's figure skating event! The world's very best skaters are all here with us in Vancouver, Canada, and we certainly have a lot to look forward to!"

"Sure we do! The short program's coming up first and we'll be seeing a lot of talent and hard work here in Pacific Coliseum, but let's first talk about what we can expect today."

"Absolutely! Last season has been pretty exciting for figure skating - there has been a number of records broken, we've had some of the older skaters really step up their game and we have seen several very impressive debuts, too!"

"That's right! And when we are talking about impressive debuts, that's, of course, most notably Katsuki Yuuri from Japan. This man caught last year's Grand Prix by surprise and brought home the first gold medal for the country ever, shocking the world of figure skating in the process."

"No one quite expected that, did they? Katsuki took the gold at the Nationals and the Four Continents as well, but the World Championship showed that this man could be beaten."

"That it did. Katsuki took silver at the event in a surprising turn of events - and, of course, the man who had beaten him there was no one else then Viktor Nikiforov."

"That's the one. If Katsuki came out of nowhere, the same couldn't be said for Nikiforov - this is a man who has been with us for several years now, always delivering brilliant performances. He's incredibly talented and very much determined to win here as well, continuing his streak from the Worlds and Europeans."

"That's for sure, but we'd better watch out for Katsuki as well. I've seen him this season at the Nationals with his new short program - and let me tell, if anyone can give Nikiforov a run for his money, it’s got to be him."

"I agree with you on that. However, it's more than that here - word is that on and off the ice, their relationship is chilly. I've talked to Nikiforov earlier today and he certainly was not impressed by his rival. And Katsuki? I'd say that after the Worlds, there is a score to be settled. Frankly, there's not a better matchup in figure skating of today than the one we're about to watch today."

"My thoughts exactly. Things are sure going to get interesting! We'll be watching these two very closely for sure today.”

\---

Viktor finishes stretching precisely in time. He takes off his headphones and waves at the other skaters before he joins Yakow.

He's not anxious in the slightest. After all, what's out there to be worried about?

"Don't you worry, Vitya," Yakov says, clapping him on the back. "Everything's ready. You are going to win."

Viktor raises an eyebrow, a bit surprised by his statement. That's not Yakov’s usual style, he thinks, but then he shrugs. Well. It's the Olympics, he's probably just nervous.

And then is his turn. He gets on the ice, raises his hand to greet the cheering crowds and feels the first surge of adrenalin, forgetting Yakov altogether.

(However, he will remember this conversation later.)

\---

Yuuri listens to the distant noises of crowd erupting in cheers and thinks, you have seen _nothing_ yet.

\---

"Well. That was _something_."

"Can't believe I'm saying this, Chris, but may be one of the greatest performances I have ever seen, if not _the_ best."

"Same here. Honestly, I'm struggling to finds words right now.”

“Fantastic jumps, unbelievable spins, thrilling emotions - Katsuki's short program had all it all."

"Katsuki receives standing ovations, the Japanese in the audience are flying their flags and the crowd’s absolutely ecstatic. He's leaving now, but there are so many people still standing for one champion who has shown us something incredible today. Historic."

"I'll tell you what - I don't think even Nikiforov can match that."

"I'd say so, yeah. However, his performance was also excellent, as usual - his score proves that. I think it's going to be close."

"Without a doubt. But look at Katsuki - he has absolutely nothing left. He's off the ice now, but the audience is still cheering."

“They have a pretty good reason, after all.”

"And the scores are in! Katsuki takes the second place."

"I'm surprised. Look at those numbers - the judges clearly weren't as impressed as we were."

"Well, they are the ones deciding, after all. But I'm going to be honest here - Katsuki deserved a better score."

"He probably did. Well. He's still got a chance to turn it around in the free skate, though."

\---

After the short program ends, Viktor waves off the celebratory party and retreats to his room. There's something churning in his stomach. He feels very light, almost weightless and his head hurts. He tries to stop the thoughts swirling around in his head, but that's too hard.

Viktor's not an idiot. His score was very, very good - so good, he thinks, it's almost incredible.

And make no mistake, he was excellent - he made only a few small mistakes, stepping out of on landing a quad toe loop, messing up his steps a bit, but the rest was good. But his score suggests he wasn't just that - according to the number, this performance must have been one of the best he has ever done.

(It wasn't, he knows, but Viktor's not ready to go there just yet.)

Katsuki comes to him much later, angry and restless, and Viktor lets him, pushing back. (He tries to think about the single silver medal, shining between the golden sea, "not quite good enough" and vicious scratches on his back, but instead, he remembers the look on Katsuki's face as the announced his score and shivers when he feels the wet drag of a tongue on his skin.)

As always, it's incredible, intense and Viktor has no doubt that Katsuki does not care about him in the slightest.

But maybe, he thinks as he stares at the ceiling, this is precisely what he deserves.

\---

Yuuri's coach's not angry. She's absolutely livid.

"They _won't_ dare." She pronounces as he stretches, preparing for his free skate. "They won't, but if they do, I'm going to drag this all the way to the Olympic Committee. I'll _destroy_ them."

"Please don't." He replies and checks his skates.

Yuuri is strangely calm. Yesterday, he wasn't, not at all. But now he feels light, almost floating, like a buoy drifting on the sea. (He thinks of Nikiforov's blank face yesterday and Yakov talking familiarly to one of the judges. He thinks about Salt Lake City, Berezhnaya and Sikharulidze and the sick feeling in his stomach yesterday.)

Do they want to play dirty? Good. That's alright with him. At least he does not have to play nice anymore.

\---

Yuuri, Viktor realizes, is absolutely terrifying.

He's graceful and savage and Viktor can't take his eyes off him as he skates, beautiful and inhuman and tearing himself apart. The routine is impossible, five quads, step sequences, layback spins and Biellamans and donut spins as well, but yet here they are, and the audience is entirely silent, watching Katsuki destroy himself on the ice.

Viktor hates him at the moment, utterly and completely, because he knows that he can't beat this, but a small part of him is horrified as well. (Why anyone would do that do himself, he would ask, but he thinks he already knows the answer.)

\---

"And Katsuki steps out of the landing."

"I don't think that'll matter much, in overall. I mean - just look at that."

“Yeah.”

\---

The quad flip's up last.

Yuuri's dripping, sweaty and hot and catching his breath, but he finishes the step sequences and inhales and thinks, _this is it_ and-

He makes the jump.

He makes it and the stadium goes wild and the landing's a bit uneven, but he can't bring himself to care.

He finishes the program and strikes a pose and waits, letting the noise completely overcome him even though he wants to collapse on the ice - but he won't let anyone of them see how hard it was for him, he won't-

\---

"I'm going to go ahead and say it. Nikiforov can't beat that."

"I mean - yes. Katsuki's performance may have been a bit unpolished and rough at the edges, but overall, it was incredible."

"Let's wait for the score."

"But – somehow, I've got a funny feeling. I don't know - I just got a funny feeling."

"You've got a funny feeling Katsuki's not going to get it?"

"I do, yeah."

\---

Here is a fact: Viktor's good.

Yuuri's better.

Here is another:

Yuuri loses.

(It's so close and the commentators rise in outrage, the crowd hesitates to clap and the other competitors look at each other uneasily before they do, but keep silent in the end. It wouldn't matter anyway, but Yuuri sees that and his lips are very tight.)

Here is the last one:

Yuuri should have won.

(This is the breaking point.)

\---

"Katsuki!" Nikiforov's voice stops him as he hurries towards the exit. Yuuri's steps falter. (He knows that he can't take any more of this.) (And yet, he stops.)

"What?" He says, blandly. (He won't scream or shout or cry. He won't.)

Nikiforov catches up to him, his expression strangely hesitant.

"You should have won," he states, somehow awkward and reluctant.

Yuuri stares at him.

"I know." He says, his voice devoid of any expression whatsoever. He turns from Nikiforov and walks away, very slowly.

Nikiforov does not follow him.

(But Yuuri will remember.)

\---

Viktor's shaking.

His head hurts and his knees are very weak but he has to find Yakov, he has to, he _needs to know-_

"Did you do it?" He asks, breathless. Yakov does not pretend not to know.

"I didn't," he says and for one beautiful, _wonderful_ , moment, Viktor can breathe, but then- "You have to understand, Vitya," and his stomach drops.

" _No_ ," Viktor whispers, devastated.

"I couldn't do anything, believe me, it came from the higher place. I was against it, but they - well. I can only do so much."

"This is _wrong_ ," he says, and his voice is trembling.

Yakov looks at him.

"Vitya," he says and his voice is very gentle. "Do you understand that if you say anything about it, your career is over? They will destroy you, make sure you won't ever compete again."

Viktor knows that.

(He throws up as soon as he gets to his room, his face wet from tears and he is shaking, and this is wrong wrong wrong, he wanted to win, but not like this, never like this.)

He does not say anything, in the end.

\---

This is what Yuuri does:

He talks to the journalists. ("I'm not the judge, so I cannot say anything about the result", he says, polite and demure.)

He packs and gets on the plane. (He refuses to let his coach scream at the judges and raise objections. It's bad enough being hated for being good - he won't let them call him a sore loser as well.)

He leaves Vancouver behind. (Not quite true.)

This is what he doesn't:

Scream. Cry. Yell. Feel.

(Can you spot the lie?)

Japan's waiting for him. He considers visiting his parents back at Hasetsu, but never gets past the thought.

The Worlds are in a month. There's no time left for homecomings.

He ignores the pain in his joints, the hurting foot, the aching muscles, the fatigue. (It's not like he doesn't know what’s happening, mind you. It's not even a possibility at this point - it's only a matter of time. He only hopes that it will wait just for a little bit longer.)

He wonders when being good stopped being enough.

It does not matter now, probably, but for some reasons it bothers him a lot that he can't remember.

\---

Viktor comes home golden.

(Of course, people still talk, speculating and pointing fingers. No one raises a formal complaint, though - and people like him, that's the thing. They still do, even after the Olympics, and in Russia, no one would ever accuse him of any wrongdoing. Viktor hates them for that.)

The nation greets him as a hero, their voices ringing in his ears and Victor waves, his smile gloriously fake and the world “fraud” echoing in his head.

And don't get any of this wrong - he wanted to win, he still does. He wanted to defeat Katsuki, break him, remove him from equations - but he didn't do that and this is _wrong_. His stomach squeezes when he looks at his medal and he throws it in the away as soon as he gets home and he can't even look at himself in the mirror, thinking about how small Katsuki seemed while leaving.

After a long consideration, he stops talking to Yakov altogether.

He keeps waiting for the moment when someone calls him out.

They never do.

\---

Before he leaves, his coach tries to talk him out of it.

"Yuuri," she says, and he does not remember her sounding this way, "you don't have to go."

He looks at her and he feels very old.

"I don't," He agrees. "But I will."

"But why?" She asks and he suddenly realizes how weary she looks. It's his fault.

"Because if I don't, _they win,_ " he says and his voice trembles and he thinks, desperately, don't you see, _don't you see._

\---

When they get to Turin, Viktor speaks to Yakov for the first time since the Olympics.

"I'm thinking about finding a new coach."

He does not say "I don't trust you anymore" or "I can't keep doing this". He doesn't have to.

Yakov nods. When Viktor looks at him, his eyes are slightly red.

\---

After the first skate, Yuuri's first. He thinks he breaks a record, but he's not sure. (It's getting harder to stay concentrated, but he has to, just for a little longer.)

He watches Nikiforov place fourth, falling twice, all bloodshot eyes and tremble in his hands. He remembers that he should feel victorious.

He doesn't feel anything at all.

\---

Viktor hesitates before knocking on Katsuki's door.

Then he does.

The door opens.

"Oh," says Katsuki. "It's you."

He looks terrible. There are enormous circles under his eyes, his hair is a mess and his voice is hoarse. He's barefoot, his toenails blackened and brittle and Victor can smell the familiar stench of antiseptic from where he stands. (Viktor's breath stops for a second, as he looks at him, surprised - he's not quite sure why. His feet and every other skater's are very much the same and he remembers the many evenings he spent in the bathroom, trying to fix them just a little bit. He just never imagined Katsuki doing this as well.)

He does not say anything.

Katsuki waits a bit and then he shrugs. "Come on in, then, if you want."

Viktor does want to shake his head and turn away, go back to his room.

Instead, he finds himself inside Katsuki's room, shutting the door.

"Give me give five minutes, would you?" Katsuki asks and does not wait for an answer before he hobbles to the bathroom. Victor still nods.

This certainly isn't the first time they have done this - yet Viktor can't help but feeling strangely unsettled. Something is very different. (He knows what.)

He waits for Katsuki to return in silence.

When he's back, Viktor hesitates before he touches him - and suddenly he does not know how much pressure should he go for, whether he should take it slow or-

Katsuki jerks away and looks at him, looking irritated. "What's going on with you?

"What?" He answers, pretending not to understand.

"Look, Nikiforov, I don't need your misplaced guilt. I was under the impression you wanted to fuck, but if you really want to pretend you regret anything, I'm not interested. Either get it together and quick, or you can see yourself out," and now's Katsuki angry, and that's good, Viktor thinks, stopping himself from panicking, that's good, he knows how to deal with that. (I didn't know, he wants to say, they never asked me, I couldn't do anything.) (The last one is a lie.)

"As I'd care about your feelings, Katsuki," he shoots back, pushing all of the confused thoughts somewhere away, and moves, quick and venomous, pushing him onto the bed.

Katsuki closes his eyes when Viktor drops to his knees, the rapid heartbeat thrumming through his blood.

\---

Afterward, Nikiforov lingers.

He showers and looks at himself in the mirror, observing the angry red marks on his body. Then he gets dressed, slowly and meticulously. The whole time, Yuuri ignores him, staring at his phone.

He can't bring himself to be angry or even care. He's absolutely, horribly empty but for a strange ache in his chest.

He should probably end this. (He does not go further with that thought.)

Nikiforov's almost at the door when Yuuri speaks up.

"Do you ever think about whether this is all worth it?" A question.

Silence and then-

"No, not really," the other man says, too quickly for it to be true, and then he's gone.

Yuuri stares at the door and then he smiles, although bitterly, for the first time in weeks.

Who would have thought?

\---

"He's going for a quad now."

"...And he falls. I'll tell you, this is very hard to watch."

"I never thought I'll say this about Viktor Nikiforov, but I'm not sure whether I can look at this."

"Two times World's Champion, Grand Prix winner, golden medallist from this year’s Olympics and multiple times European Champion - and this time, he won't make it to the podium."

"This is sad."

\---

It's an accident.

During the warm-up, Yuuri blanks out for a few very important seconds. He can't see the French skater - and when he does, it's too late.

That's the first mistake.

When they get him off the ice - only after he has bled all over it - they tell him it's only a bruising. _Good_ , Yuuri thinks, not quite thinking, _I can still skate with that_. It hurts, of course, but what doesn't, at this point? They warn him and his coach asks him not to do it, pale and something old in her eyes.

Forty-five minutes later, he gets back on the ice.

That's the second.

He considers going easier, but. (His coach, the golden medal, Nikiforov's indecipherable expression. It all adds up.) He decides to go for the routine he has bled for the past year.

That's the last one.

But the funny thing is - he almost makes it. The bruising's bad and it makes his jumps lower, but he still manages, only touching the ice once. He still has a chance to win.

It's the last jump that does it. (The quad flip, it's the quad, of course it is, and he's not surprised, not really and just before the world goes away, he thinks, "not yet, not yet.")

Yuuri falls. This time, he does not get up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: In the last part of this chapter, Yuuri experiences a crash reminescent of the one Yuzuru Hanyu had. It's not very graphic, but there is a mention of blood.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> We have hit the rock bottom, but this journey's far from finished.
> 
> This one took a bit longer, because I really needed to think about the direction we are taking, do some research and talk to people. Thus, even though I still know nothing about figure skating, let me present you with a quick fact.  
> That thing with judges rigging the competition? That's actually real. It is apparently something that has happened at the [ 2014 Olympics figure skating event](http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/02/why-people-think-adelina-sotnikovas-figure-skating-gold-medal-was-rigged/358344/). Some of the commentary here actually comes from the [ real thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgXKJvTVW9g). Still, I'm taking a lot of liberty here.  
> There are some other things, too - kudos to you if you can spot them!


	4. 2010 - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring is here.

When they'll ask him how it felt, Yuuri will stay silent.

(It felt like drowning. He remembers the voices, back in the dark, echoing in his head, calling him, telling him to wake up. He remembers opening his eyes and the harsh light piercing his eyes, looking around and not quite comprehending what was happening. He remembers the moment when it all came back to him, though - and he remembers coughing and trying to lift his head, because he had to get up, he had to finish - and then he remembers the pain, striking from the back of his head and tearing him into piece, taking all power to move out of his body. He rememebers saying "I'm sorry," before blacking out again, "I don't think I can finish this.")

\---

After his performance, Viktor withdraws to his locker room.

He stares at the wall, listening to the faint noise of roaring crowd and waits for someone to come. Yakov, maybe - someone of the other competitors or a teammate. They used to come, when he was younger - he's not sure. It's been a long time.

No one does, though.

When at least half an hour has gone by, he finally gives up and takes out his phone, mindlessly scrolling down his Twitter feed to distract himself.

That's how he finds out about Katsuki.

\---

Injured Katsuki Yuuri Quits Figure Skating World Championship  
BY ASSOCIATED PRESS | MARCH 25, 2010, 14:52 P.M. (ET)

2009 Grand Prix winner sidelined by concussion, unable to finish competition

TURIN - Japanese top skater Katsuki Yuuri shocks fans by quitting the competition after suffering a dramatic fall at the end of his program at World Championship.

Katsuki, 21, sustained a concussion when he fell during his final free skate jump on Thursday evening. Prior to his fall, he collided with another skater in the warm-up.

The Japanese skater had a record-breaking performance the day before, landing five quadruple jumps in his short program on Wednesdays. The next day, Katsuki and France's Jérémy Dupont collided near center ice at the Turin venue while preparing for their free skate. Katsuki lay on the ice for several seconds, blood streaming down his chin.

The skater was taken farther off the ice and checked out while sitting down. He competed about 45 minutes later, performing his routine with several mistakes before falling on attempting a quadruple flip and becoming unconscious. He received treatment from doctors and was rushed to a hospital with suspected back injury shortly after that.

Katsuki, considered to be one of the best skaters of today, placed second in the Olympics figure skating competition in a controversial decision this year and was expected to win the gold medal at this event. Czech Radovan Mráz placed first in Katsuki's absence, while another fan's favorite, Russia's Viktor Nikiforov, finishing fifth after an underwhelming performance.

\---

They tell him he got lucky.

His back is, according to the final diagnosis, strained, but otherwise alright. The concussion is bad, they say, but he should be okay.

They find out about the other things, though - the exhaustion, because he has been running low on sleep for weeks now. The aching muscles pushed again and again to the limit. The torn feet and sore joints, slowly giving up on him. His coach looks at him, deep circles under her eyes and holds off for now, but Yuuri knows what's coming.

They tell him he got lucky, all things considering. He'll skate again, even if it'll take some time.

Yuuri thinks about the gold slipping away from him yet again and disagrees.

\---

Afterward, Viktor holds a press conference where he announces the big news.

Yakov sits beside him, unusually quiet, and Viktor thinks for the last time about whether he's making the right choice, but. (He's not sure whether right choices are even on the table.) When he says it, there are a few second of shocked silence before the journalists realize what's happening. Then it comes.

"Viktor! Is this decision related to the recent decline in your performances?" (This one hurts.)

"Have you felt that you weren't skating your best under Coach Feltsman's direction?"

"Who will be coaching you now?"

Viktor drinks some water out of his glass, steadying himself before he drops the last bomb with an easy smile.

"Oh, also, I have decided to continue my training in the United States. It'll be really exciting to change things up a bit and I'm looking forward to taking the most out of this unique opportunity!"

After this one, the journalists positively riot.

(They say that in America, you can be a new man. Viktor's not sure whether he can believe that but he's willing to give it a try.)

\---

His mom calls at midnight. (Time difference, see.)

He hesitates, but then picks up.

"Yuuri! Baby, are you alright?" A familiar voice comes through and guilt follows.

"I'm okay, mum. It's not as bad as it looked like," Yuuri says. It's not like he can remember anything, but he had seen himself on YouTube and - yeah.

"How come you didn't text me? I've had to find out from the morning news! Yuuri - I - didn't- " and then she has to stop, her voice shaking and Yuuri's heart breaks a little bit.

"It's fine, really. They are going to let me out of the hospital soon."

"...Yuuri - please come home," she finally says. Yuuri breathes in and tries to think of a reason why he can't - but then he hears the ragged breathing coming through and finds he has none.

"I will, mom. I promise."

\---

Viktor boards the plane home alone. Turin shines in the night and he can't help but wonder. (About the glint of bottles he has seen through the corner of his eye in Yakov's room. About his old flat in Saint Petersburg, almost empty after the many years he didn't quite live there. About Katsuki Yuuri collapsed on the ice and his very pale skin.)

Viktor's only twenty-one.

\---

They let him out of the hospital on Saturday.

Yuuri takes little steps and winces, his head throbbing. His muscles fight him, sore and aching for rest, and the strained back refuses to make it a bit easier for him, but he walks, if slowly. Something is ringing in his ears again and it's hard to think, but he insists on taking the front exit and walking past the journalists. He blinks when they start taking photos and tries to smile, but fails to and as they start asking questions, his head turns heavier and he says something - "I am very disappointed, yes," and "I think I'm doing better now, thank you," and then the car is here and he gets into it, shutting the world out.

"This can't go on," his coach says after they get off the plane in Tokyo some seventeen hours later. Yuuri can't quite look her in the eyes. "Yuuri - this has to stop."

"I know," he says, after a minute, his eyes still closed.

"Okay," she says, watching him. "Good. Let's work with that."

\---

Before Viktor leaves, he says his goodbyes.

He returns the keys to his empty little flat and leaves the building. Viktor thinks that he should probably care more about leaving his home, but. (Home is the ice rink, roaring crowds and jumping higher. This was a place where he just happened to sleep sometimes.) He takes very few things - the skates, of course, some clothes, toiletries, and a first aid kit. He looks at the medals and leaves them there.

(The night after he arrives to his new home, he'll wake up, feverish and reach for his phone, call Lilia and plead her in a small voice to come back to his place and get them for him. The ballerina will hang up on him, but she'll come there the next day, take the shiny trinkets and hide them in the apartment she shares with Yakov.) (But for now, he's allowed to believe that he can leave that easy.)

He walks around the city, watching the tourists and remembers. The rink's up last.

(Coming there is not the hardest part. He shivers in the cold and look at kids skating under the supervision of their parents and remembers scraped knees, bruises, and excited shouts. Now, leaving - that's a lot harder, but he manages that, in the end.)

"Hey!" He's walking away when a very young, high-pitched voice shouts after him. Viktor stops and looks back.

It's one of the kids from the rink, he realizes, a bit surprised. The blonde boy who comes around every day with his grandfather and watches.

"Why are you leaving?" The boy catches up to him and demands. Viktor's not sure how to answer. (I'm leaving because I can't trust my coach anymore. I'm leaving because my country doesn't feel as mine anymore. I'm leaving because I need to get out.)

"I wanted to change things up a bit," he says finally, and smiles like he has practiced,

The boy frowns. "You can't leave!" He proclaims loudly. "You are our best skater. We need you here!"

Viktor has no idea what to say, so he shrugs and pretends not to care. "Sorry. Can't do that."

The little boy's silent after that and Viktor thinks that this is it. He turns and starts walking.

"I'll beat you one day," the boy snaps, calling after him and Viktor notices there are tears in his eyes. "I'll be the champion this country deserves if you can't do it!" Viktor smiles at that. It's a bit sad, but there's nothing fake about it.

"Alright, little guy. I'll be looking forward to that," he says and then he turns and leaves.

Saint Peterburg is slowly waking up. There are people in the streets, walking and speaking into their phones and talking, and the cars are driving past him and the sun is high up in the sky. He thinks that he hears a bird singing in a distance.

He's walking through a park when he notices the tender blooms of magnolias and suddenly stops. Look at that, he thinks, surprised, and mindlessly reaches out for one flower. It's incredibly soft and fragile in his hand and he can't remember the last time he held one of them. Who would have thought, he thinks and smiles, gently.

Spring is here.

\---

The corridor is empty.

It's an old building and people walk out and in, talking to each other, but he's alone down here and his steps echoes as he walks down the corridor. He sits down and doesn't take off his coat, because it's still cold, even inside.

("Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" his coach says, but he shakes his head and gets out of the car, leaving her alone. "I have to do this by myself," he doesn't say.)

He waits in silence before the door opens, revealing a young woman with a kind smile. She says his name as a question and he nods, prompting her to ask him to come in. He stands up and follows her, walking past several rooms to the one in the very back. He sits down and folds his hands, waiting.

"Good!" The therapist finishes setting up the place and sits down as well, smiling at him. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself first?"

Yuuri breathes in and then he does.

\---

Viktor's been to America before. None of that, however, prepares him for the experience of actually living there.

The food's horrifying - Viktor rather learns to survive on Chinese takeout before he would walk through a door of a McDonalds or an Olive Garden and none of the parties he has been to so far has anything even approaching proper alcohol. The weather's absurdly warm for late spring and he walks around in his shirt, desperately scared of summer. People immediately notice his accent and ask him invasive questions and laugh at him sometimes and he struggles with his English in a way he never used to. The third day, he almost gets run over by a car and the driver yells at him incredible offensive things until he's gone. There are millions of people he passes by every day, looking into their phones, texting or calling someone and absolutely none of them have any idea who he is.

Viktor absolutely loves it.

He cycles to the rink every day, because the process of getting a driver's license secretly terrifies him and takes photos with star-struck fans and laughs a lot louder, because that's apparently what people do around here and he skates to Katy Perry and his new coach - Cialdini - is horrified because he expected him to behave mature and responsible and Viktor doesn't care in the slightest. In the night, he goes to clubs and dances and drinks and sometimes he picks up a girl - or a guy, Viktor's amazed to find out - and they go to his place.

The nights when he's alone, he lies in the dark sleepless and feels the emptiness slowly crawling back and he remembers - Yakov, Katsuki, the articles in the newspapers, the routine waiting for him - and knows that he can't deal with these just yet. (These nights are few in between, though, as he learns about the right places and the right people to avoid being alone.)

It's summer and Viktor's twenty-one. Detroit doesn't feel like a home yet, but then, what ever did?

\---

Yuuri doesn't get better, yet.

He still comes to the rink too soon and leaves too late, so his coach forces him to move in with her. That makes it hard to sneak out at dawn and return after she has left - he has to stop and feels guilty for doing so. "If I don't go there, I'll only lose again," he says to her, on the verge of tears and she grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to look her in the eyes.

"If you do go there, you can find yourself a new coach," she says, her voice strong and ringing in his ears, and he stops struggling. "I trusted you, Yuuri, to know what's good for you and make your own decision - it was hard and I was worried, but I tried and look where we ended up," she gestures and falls silent. Yuuri doesn't have anything to say.

She has to breathe in before she can continue.

"So, this time, we are going to do this my way - and if you don't want that, I'll respect that, but you will have to do it without me because I won't watch you try to kill yourself again, I won't."

And Yuuri jerks away after that, but doesn't forget.

It's still hard, even after that, but when he feels guilty, he tries to remember - his mom's voice on the phone, the old eyes of his coach and the clinical whiteness of the hospital - and that helps a bit.

They start sketching up his new routines and his head slowly gets better. He still finds very hard to smile, though, feeling flat and tired. He sleeps a lot more, but his coach says that's okay - and at least his foot stops hurting now that he spends more time off the ice than on it.

By the time the ringing in his ears stops, it's May.

His therapist asks him about the Olympics and Nikiforov for the first time a few days after that. He stops breathing for a second before he remembers to and looks elsewhere before he can say anything.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he manages. (That Nikiforov's a cheat, that he's arrogant and hateful and a hypocrite. That he doesn't understand how he could do that or what exactly happened at the Worlds. That he still thinks about the way he touched him that last night before he pushed him away.)

That evening, when he eats dinner with his coach, he finally dares to breach the subject.

"I heard that Nikiforov's moving to the US," he says, going for careless. He can tell right there that she sees right through him, but thankfully, she just sighs.

"Yes, of course," she replies, putting down her chopsticks. "He's in Detroit with that Italian - Cialdini, I think."

"Oh," he says and doesn't get past that.

Some time after that, they finally finish his routine. It's still rough and flawed, but Yuuri can't help but like it.

Summer finds him on the ice again, going for the first quad since the Worlds. He falls, but gets up and tries again.

Yuuri doesn't get better, yet, but his therapist says that he's doing well and that he needs time. For the first time in months, he finds that's good enough.

\---

Time flies.

Viktor wakes up late and falls asleep later and goes to the rink and skates and drinks and fucks. Celestino gets over his disappointment and stops expecting better from him (and Yakov wouldn't do that, but he doesn't go there, because dealing with that is something he's not ready to do) and Viktor puts together a routine and says that it's about new beginnings and tries to ignore how hollow the words feel. Detroit slowly gets less exciting and Viktor starts missing the familiar shapes of Cyrillic, the taste of good black bread and Saint Peterburg's summers, but he'd rather give up all of that than go back.

In many ways, it's better than before. In some, it's the same.

The assignments for Grand Prix arrive soon. Viktor gets NHK Trophy and Cup of China and that's not ideal, but at least he avoids coming back to Russia. On the other hand, he finds out that Katsuki's lined up for NHK as well. Celestino rolls his eyes at that, mumbling something about Japanese skating machines, and forces him to get back to training

(The thing is, Viktor doesn't know how to feel about that. Katsuki should be cold arrogance, harsh words and scars on his shoulders, but instead, Viktor finds himself remembering the small figure leaving the hallway, "is it worth it" and unseeing eyes.)

(It's hard to hate that.)

\---

Nagoya's too soon and too close.

Yuuri finds himself missing the long flights, longing for more time to think and rest, but his coach thinks that's for the best. They arrive early enough and he has to stop himself from immediately going to the rink to practice. (That's what he used to do.) She nods approvingly.

Nikiforov doesn't come to his room that evening. Yuuri pretends that he doesn't care.

(That night, he dreams about drowning, falling and something terrible dragging him down and wakes up coughing, gasping for air. He doesn't tell anyone about it.)

They meet soon enough, though, before the short program's supposed to start. He sees Nikiforov when they are gathering for the warm-up and expects nothing but cold ignorance.

That's not what happens.

"Katsuki!" A familiar voice exclaims before he can get on the ice, and he turns. Nikiforov smiles when he sees him, if a bit hesitantly, and waves. "Good luck."

Yuuri waits for the necessary insult coming his way, a "you'll need it" or perhaps "since you can't skate", but it never comes. He sees Nikiforov's smile slowly turn forced when he doesn't answer. Yuuri breathes and remembers Vancouver and Worlds and Everett.

"Thank you. Good luck to you as well," he settles for saying and turns away. He doesn't see Nikiforov exhale and follow him.

\---

The thing about Katsuki, Viktor realizes as he skates, is that he'd understand.

Viktor's never satisfied. ("Quadruple Salchow right off the bat.") You'll give him a gold and he'll ask for a second and a third, you'll let him into your bed and he'll take your heart when he leaves, dumping it somewhere along the way. He lives for the cheering crowds and the rush of thrill when he makes a quad and dates people because they make him a better skater and refuses to give something back in return. ("Quadruple toe and a little hesitation before the triple toe, but executed just beautifully.")

Katsuki, though. Viktor remembers the banquet, the one where it all began, and the cold dismissal in his voice. He remembers the reserved eyes and arrogant face, the always lonely figure, the bruised feet, "I don't need your misplaced guilt" and a man falling, a man like him. Katsuki's hurting and lonely and angry and Viktor can't help (he can't help himself, how could he do that), and if he tries, it's going to end in tears and shouts, but.

Viktor is greedy.

("And Viktor Nikiforov comes back in a big style, scoring 99. 68 points and taking the lead after his short program!")

\---

The thing about Nikiforov is, Yuuri realizes as he skates, is that he'd understand.

No one ever does, see. ("A quad toe loop! Brilliant execution.") His mom, his coach, his family, the other skaters - there's no coming back for him, simple as that. Yuuri left school and friends and Hasetsu, sacrificing them for becoming something bigger and more important, and if he goes back, it's all going to be lost for nothing and he can't live with that. ("Look at that step sequence. Katsuki's still going strong.")

Nikiforov, though. Yuuri remembers the banquet, the one where it all began, and Nikiforov's empty eyes, hungry for more, eyes like his. He remembers the false smiles and affection, the smirks and sharp words and Vancouver's stolen gold. Nikiforov's ruthless and ambitious and hateful and he's going to hurt him, but. ("And a stunning triple axel in the second half of the program.")

Yuuri is lonely.

("After his brilliant performance, Katsuki Yuuri from Japan takes the first place with 102.61 points. What a return!")

\---

"My place or yours?" Nikiforov asks, later and Yuuri makes his choice.

"Mine."

\---

Viktor promises to himself to be gentle, this time.

Katsuki, as expected, does not react well.

"Stop treating me like I'm going to break," he snaps. Viktor pauses and looks up, catching Katsuki's eyes.

"I don't think I could break you if I tried," he confesses and there's something tender in his voice.

Katsuki does not answer, but stops pulling away, after that.

\---

Later that evening, they lie on the bed together in silence.

"Why did you do it?" Yuuri finally says, his eyes closed. He hears Nikiforov turn, the sheets rustling.

"What?" He hears the other man ask - and his accent is almost gone, he notices with curiosity. Yuuri considers asking about Vancouver, but it's dark and warm and he feels almost safe and can't bring himself to take that away just yet.

"Left Russia," he says, instead. He doesn't expect a real answer.

"It didn't feel right, anymore," Nikiforov answers, finally, his voice turning heavy and tired. "I - I just needed to get out."

Yuuri thinks he understands, then.

\---

Viktor comes back to his room in the morning, feeling weightless.

Later, they are getting ready for the free skate. The other competitors slowly leave the room, heading out on the ice, and he exchanges a few meaningless words with them before they go. Katsuki pointedly ignores them, stretching in the corner. Viktor watches him. This is why he notices the way the other man winces when he goes for the left foot.

After the last one has left, he decides to ask.

"Are you alright?" He says, testing the water. Katsuki frowns and Viktor's getting ready for the inevitable "yes, leave me alone".

"Yeah - I mean, it's fine. It just gets a bit worse, sometimes," he says, finally, taking Viktor by surprise.

"You should get it checked," Viktor can't help but push a bit.

"I know," Katsuki shoots back and turns away, ending the conversation. Viktor shrugs and leaves it.

He's not his coach, anyway.

\---

Yuuri takes the gold and holds in front of the world to see.

Afterward, Nikiforov takes his hand and promises to see him in the Finals. (When he gets home, Yuuri finds a foreign number saved into his phone and something inside him moves. He doesn't delete it.)

Yuuri doesn't have friends, but maybe, he tries to reason with himself, just for once, he can have this.

(His foot is hurting, again. Yuuri ignores it.)

\---

Viktor comes back to Detroit feeling lighter.

Celestino notices and asks him about it, but Viktor shrugs and says some nonsense about how good it feels to be competing again. He buys it.

He watches Katsuki on TV win Trophée de France and counters by placing first at the Cup of China. Celestino nods approvingly and journalists throw themselves at him and he smiles brightly and drinks a bit less and falls asleep alone.

He's not sure what's going on, but he's willing to try.

\---

By the time GPF is here, Yuuri knows he's getting worse again.

His foot made it so far, albeit grudgingly, but he can tell that if he keeps on pushing, it's going to break. What he needs aren't the short two weeks before Nationals or a month spent drilling after that, no - his sleep has been getting worse, his joints ache and he feels exhaustion down in his muscles. (It's not as bad as at the Worlds - but if he doesn't do something, he'll get there soon.)

What he needs is a break.

(A big part of him refuses even to consider that. He's not weak, it insists, he can make it - now that he has an opportunity to make up for his failures, he needs to take it.) (It's very hard to ignore that.)

Instead, he talks to his coach. She looks at him with approval and suggests going to a check-up immediately. He agrees.

He feels like a disappointment nonetheless.

\---

Katsuki Yuuri withdraws from the Grand Prix Final  
BY ASSOCIATED PRESS | DECEMBER 7, 2010, 18:31 P.M. (ET)

Japanese figure skater Katsuki Yuuri won’t be competing in the Grand Prix Final, taking the rest of the season off.

TOKYO - World Prix Champion Katsuki Yuuri will be off the ice for the rest of the season due to ligament damage in his left foot, the Japan Skating Federation said Monday. Aside from withdrawing from the GPF, he also won't be defending his title at this year’s Japanese National Figure Skating Championship, skipping the Four Continents and Worlds as well.

Since the start of this season, Katsuki was dealing with pain in his left foot. Because of the stress that toe loops place on the left foot, Katsuki was compelled to switch from a quad toe loop to a quad Salchow at the Trophée de France.

In his statement, Katsuki said he is mentally and physically tired. “It was a really hard decision for me not to compete,” wrote the Japanese skater who won both of the qualifying tournaments. He promised to return by the start of the next season.

Katsuki Yuuri placed first in the Grand Prix Final in 2009. He is the two-times winner of the Four Continents competition, a silver Olympics medalist and reigning national champion and was expected to take the gold this season in the GPF.

\---

As soon as he finds out, Viktor calls him.

He picks ups on the second try.

"Is it true?" He demands, immediately and Katsuki stays silent.

"It's my foot," he says, in the end, and as an afterthought, "you were right."

Viktor hesitates, thousands of things going through his head - you can't, no one else can keep up with me, you can win this year, stay - and all of them are wrong. He pauses, thinking.

"Okay. I- I'll be in Detroit, with my coach, you know," he finally says, trying to sound flippant. "You should stop by."

Katsuki - no, Yuuri - on the other end of the line doesn't answer immediately.

"Maybe I will," he says, after a moment. Viktor smiles, hesitantly.

"I hope you do."

Katsuki is silent for a few seconds before hanging up. Viktor still counts that as a victory.

\---

When the year comes to a close, Yuuri finds himself back at Hasetsu for the first time in years.

He helps his mom in the kitchen and skates in the Ice Palace again, Yuuko's kids screaming in excitement and Takeshi rolling his eyes. Mari forces him to help around the hot springs and he pretends to be annoyed but does it anyway. In the evenings, he talks to Minako and practices in her studio and she acts to be appalled by his footwork. He talks a lot more and his smile is a shy, fleeting thing, but it's there.

His foot slowly gets better.

He doesn't forget about Nikiforov's offer. It feels very strange and personal and he finds thousands of reason why he possibly can't - and yet, he catches himself booking a ticket to Detroit for the spring. It's bizarre and he struggles to trust that he, of all people, could have something like this, but he thinks about the way Nikiforov looked at him and clicks "buy".

He looks at his phone and thinks about what to write. After twenty excruciating minutes, he settles for "I'll come."

The answer arrives in a matter of minutes. It's an "Amazing!" with a lot of exclamations marks and smiling faces. Yuuri feels breathless.

New Year's Eve comes quickly. When fireworks go off at midnight and paint the night with yellows, reds, and blues, he listens to the temple bells ringing, closes his eyes and dares to believe that the new year will turn out to be a good one.


	5. 2011 - part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri falls in love on Tuesday.

After Viktor wins the Grand Prix, he gets a text from Lilia.

"Your step sequences are getting sloppy." ("This isn't the best you can do.") ("Come home, Vitya.")

He tries to figure out what to write back. When February comes, he still has nothing.

It'll be soon a year, he realizes, looking at the date on his phone at the airport after the Europeans. It'll be soon a year and his apartment feels as foreign as the previous one did and Detroit's gotten boring and it's _unbearable,_ that's what it is. He scrolls through his absurdly long contact list (and it's incredible, how many people are there that he doesn't care about in the slightest) and finds a familiar one and types up a short text and sends it before he can start thinking about it too much.

"ru coming soon?"

He waits.

\---

Hasetsu, Yuuri discovers, feels very small to someone who held the world in his hands.

Winter buries the town and Yuuri watches on the TV screen Nikiforov triumph in Beijing and Bern, gliding effortlessly on the ice and something very ugly inside him raises its head and slowly hisses, burning his insides with jealousy and envy. You could be the one standing there, it says, they could be cheering for your and the gold around your neck, but _of course_ you had to fuck it up again, it sneers, too _weak_ , not good _enough_.  
  
Then Viktor texts him, the letters shining bright and strong in the darkness, and Yuuri takes that thing and pushes it somewhere very deep and far away, shame searing his throat. He reads the message and doesn't know what to say.

"After the Worlds," he settles for.

"ok," says the answer.

The snow comes and goes and then it melts for good and Yuuri packs his things and kisses his mom goodbye and leaves the small town just as spring comes.

(Hasetsu couldn't hold him, Hasetsu can't take Nikiforov's sharp smile and very white teeth.)

He goes to Tokyo.

In late April, just after Nikiforov takes Moscow, the doctors finally agree that his foot is as good as it's ever going to get and let him go with a promise to take it slow.

Yuuri doubts that Nikiforov knows how to do that. (He doesn't, for sure.)

\---

Viktor doesn't tell anyone about Katsuki coming.

He doesn't know how - as if there was a normal way of saying "hey, the guy I've ben fucking for over two and a half years now and who is also my biggest rival whom I hate very much but not like anymore is coming over". At the same time, he doesn't want to - he doesn't quite understand the thing they have, but it's theirs and nobody's else and the world has already seen so many things he wanted to keep but he won't let them take this one, he _won't_.

And so when he takes a cab to the airport, it's still a secret and Viktor feels strangely giddy, because nobody knows yet, even if they will, soon. On the drive to the airport, he constructs scenarios of how this could go and the giddiness mixes with a vague sense of panic and a thousand what ifs.

Then his phone lights up, pulsing and there's Katsuki's name.

Viktor's fingers linger over the screen.

\---

Nikiforov answers the call. ("Yes?," he says and it's nothing but perfectly cordial and friendly and for a moment, Yuuri forgets to speak - to hear such a sentence in such circumstances from voice usually tainted with a cold sneer and dismissal is unsettling, at the very least.)

"I've just landed," he announces and looks out of the tiny window, watching the gray.

"Oh, okay!" Nikiforov says. "I'll be there soon. Wait for me?"

And Yuuri has to keep himself from laughing out loud because this is incredibly bizarre, it's 2011 and he's in Detroit of all places about to meet up with Viktor fucking Nikiforov and has no idea whatsoever what to expect.

"Sure," he says instead and hangs up.

It's spring. Yuuri has two months left and no plans to go with them. After so many years spent living on a schedule, it feels like infinity.

\---

It's awkward, as one could expect.

They make careful conversation on the ride to Viktor's apartment, deliberately avoiding any sore topics - Katsuki's injury and the Grand Prix and skating in general, which leaves very little to be talked about. Viktor tries to speak about moving to Detroit, but then it gets too close to the things he left behind and he immediately shuts that down, because it's too early (literally and figuratively) for it and Katsuki mentions his family, which reminds Viktor of Lilia and Yakov and the text he's been cautiously avoiding for a few months now and that's not good either. Eventually, they both give up and spend the rest of the ride in silence.

Viktor pays for the fare and Katsuki tries to protest but he smiles very brightly and refuses to talk about it.

"So, how long are you staying?" He finally asks when they are climbing the steps up to his apartment.

Katsuki is very silent.

"I don't know," he admits, finally, when they are standing at the doors and Viktor fiddles with the keys. It sounds like he's conceiting a defeat.

"Well, you'll figure it out," Viktor says and opens the door.

(He hopes that he's telling the truth.)

\---

Yuuri's appalled.

Nikiforov's apartment is a mess. There are a few pieces of ridiculously fancy furniture, awkwardly hanging in the empty space as if they were ashamed of taking some of it, the walls are very white and very bare and somebody - probably Nikiforov - tried to pick up the stray pieces of clothes and move them to one place, but resigned somewhere in the middle of it. There is an assortment of empty bottles waiting for someone to pick them up, the windows probably haven't been cleaned in years and the whole place has a feeling of an unfinished surrealistic painting.

"This is your apartment," Yuuri states, somehow not comprehending.

Nikifor turns, eyes wide. "Yes?" He tries.

"How do you live here?" Yuuri has to ask.

"I don't, for the most part," Nikiforov admits, and it's kind of bitter and here it comes again, the strange sort of vulnerability Yuuri came to associate with lost evenings and another body next to him.

He doesn't answer, instead opting to put down his bag and look around. A second impression doesn't help - in fact, it manages to be a little bit worse that the first one.

Of all the scenarios he imagined this going, the notion of spending his first evening with Nikiforov _cleaning_ his nightmarish apartment somehow never appeared to him.

(Strangely, he feels glad. It's sort of comforting, really, to have this physical reminder of the fact that Nikiforov's just as broken as he is.)

\---

Evening comes to meet Viktor sitting on his couch, watching in stunned shock Katsuki move around the kitchen.

They have taken away all the trash and gone to the supermarket to buy actual food and fought over brands of cleaning supplies and cleaned the windows and now Katsuki's cooking dinner and it's completely surreal, Viktor thinks and shuts his mouth, because he's starting to look deranged.

Eventually, Katsuki puts a bowl of something hot and steaming before him and Viktor eyes it a bit suspiciously and Katsuki looks at him, looking completely frustrated and goes, "it's not like I'm going to poison you _now,_ " and Viktor chokes as he fully realises the implications of that sentence and Katsuki rolls his eyes and sits down.

"That's - that's actually really good," he says, bewildered when he actually gets around to tasting it and Katsuki's eyes spell murder and Viktor has to start laughing because this has gone from strange to absolutely absurd real quick and he doesn't know how to deal with that.

"God, you are doing a fantastic job of reminding me why do I actually hate you, Nikifo-"

And Viktor kisses him just to shut him up and Katsuki lets out an indignant squeal and then kisses back, hungry and demanding and Viktor finds that he can't stop.

\---

Yuuri has never thought that anything involving him and Nikiforov could be described as _domestic,_ but apparently, he was wrong.

The next morning, he wakes up in strange bed and panics (and that's just another routine for him, isn't it) before realizing where he is. He gets up and walks to the kitchen just to be confronted with Nikiforov in a fancy bathrobe, making coffee. He stares.

"Do you want to go with me to the training?" Nikiforov asks when they are sitting at the table and Yuuri's looking at his mug, perplexed.

"I guess," he says and tries not to think about anyone he might have to meet there.

And so they go.

Inevitably, there are people who recognize him there and gasps and point fingers at him. Some of them dare to approach him and ask for photos or autographs and Yuuri's getting ready to say no when Nikiforov looks at him in a very specific way. Yuuri looks at the girl in question - and she can't be older than twelve - and tries to smile and says yes. She brightens up and starts talking very excitedly and Yuuri tries to keep up but fails so he just smiles at the camera when the time's right and she thanks him very prettily and leaves.

Others follow. Yuuri feels like a particularly interesting animal in the zoo. He says as much to Nikiforov.

"Oh, they'll get bored of you soon. That's what happened to me, at least," the other man shrugs and Yuuri can't help but feel vaguely insulted. Nikiforov smirks a bit.

And then they get on ice and meet Celestino Cialdini and that's incredibly awkward, seeing as the Nikiforov's coach is as shocked by seeing Katsuki Yuuri wandering around in Detroit with his nemesis as one would expect him to be, but Yuuri stays just to exchange few polite words and then skates away, slowly repeating basic figures and steps to calm himself.

And that's how the day unfolds. They get a lunch at a Chinese place nearby and Nikiforov takes him to a ballet studio where Yuuri finds out that even after his break, he's still a lot better than the other skater and Nikiforov tries to keep up and kisses him hard after in the changing room, biting down on his lips. They get back to the apartment and Yuuri cooks and Nikiforov googles famous sights of Detroit because apparently, even after living in that place for more than a year now, he has no idea whatsoever where to take him and Yuuri laughs at him mercilessly and when Nikiforov starts protesting, he licks it off his mouth.

It's still very strange but slowly, it gets better.

\---

Viktor's not sure what's happening.

He wakes up every day and there is Katsuki, sleeping next to him, who turns out to be horrible at waking up and generally being a functional human being in the mornings. They eat something and get dressed and go to the rink and Viktor starts putting together his new routines for the upcoming season and watches Katsuki rediscover skating. In the afternoon, they explore the city and Viktor falls in love with Detroit all over and they come to his place in the evening, tired and happy.

And of course they fight - they fight over the cereal brand Viktor continues to buy even though Katsuki has some kind of personal vendetta against it and Katsuki accuses him of leaving the dirty dishes in the sink on purpose (and he's completely right) and Viktor gets frustrated when Katsuki's cleaning sprees result in him not being able to find _absolutely anything_ and Katsuki threatens to flight back to Japan and Viktor dares him to and then they have frankly incredible angry sex and the neighbours bang on the walls and they don't care about them in the slightest.

And that's how it goes.

\---

Yuuri learns to love mornings.

They wake up before the sun does (that's the hard part, but Yuuri learns quickly) and come to the rink just as it begins to rise and it's just him and Nikiforov and the soothing emptiness of the space and the first rays of the sun, tentatively searching for them.  
Yuuri's still careful, hesitant, because the time he's spent off the ice is showing, but when he inevitably falls - and during a triple axel, on the top of that - Nikiforov doesn't say anything - no "are you alright", "are you sure about this" or "take it slow". Yuuri gets up and continues to skate aimlessly, thinking about the fall and everything it means.

"Yuuri!" And that's Nikiforov voice, he realizes, and he turns his head in surprise because this is a bridge they haven't crossed yet and Nikiforov looks surprised as well.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want a tip?" Nikiforov says and he looks a bit embarrassed and Yuuri's intrigued.

"Sure."

"You aren't using your left foot at all - I don't know whether it's still hurting but it definitely messes up your balance a lot."

Yuuri looks down at his feet and thinks back - and Nikiforov's right and Yuuri doesn't know whether that shocks him more that the fact that Nikiforov apparently just tried to help. "Thanks," he manages and Nikiforov nods and glides off. Yuuri stands there for a little longer.

Next time he tries the jump, he doesn't fall.

\---

"Katsuki" turns into a "Yuuri" along the way.

Katsuki's the rival ("not good enough", arrogance and sweat stinging in the bright red scratches on his back) - but Yuuri's physically unable to wake up on his own before nine o'clock and has a grudge against Fruit Loops and smiles at Viktor every time he exclaims over his "katsudon" (and he doesn't have to fake this one in the slightest). Yuuri calls him Viktor for the first time when they are making love in his apartment and his heart skips a beat at that exact moment. 

Summer's almost here.

\---

Yuuri falls in love on Tuesday.

They're at Viktor's and the afternoon's lazily winding down. Yuuri's lying on the couch and thinking about jumps and spins and steps and Viktor's in the kitchen, humming something barely resembling music, and it's a bit distracting, but Yuuri manages. (It's a bit amusing, though - the great Viktor Nikiforov, being absolutely tone-deaf.) The sunset bleeds into the sky behind the windows and the traffic echoes from down the street.

He hears the steps, coming closer, and opens his eyes just to see Viktor directly above, looking at him, holding two steaming mugs.

"Brought you some tea," he says, amused when Yuuri blinks in shock.

And Yuuri's heart's suddenly beating too fast and Viktor's smiling at him and there's something inside him, under his ribs, and he feels it expanding  and he fears he can't contain it because it gets bigger and _bigger_ , but he doesn't want to let it go, because it's very young and very delicate and can't possibly survive on its own out there in the void-

(-and that's when he knows.)

\---

Viktor can't say when it happened.

One day, he wakes up to a warm body next to his and feels it, somewhere deep down under his ribs, throbbing and expanding and filling him from the inside, warm and bright and soft and he thinks in wonder, _oh_.

So _this_ is what it is.

Maybe, he'll realize later, it's been there for a very long time.

\---

Here's the funny thing - Yuuri knows it won't last.

He's twenty-one now. By now, he has learned that he'll have to pay for all of this eventually. Nothing good ever comes free - everything has a price. Yuuri knows what this one is. (And it's funny, in a terrible kind of way, how Yuuri knew this _all the time_ \- that when he goes back, Viktor's brilliant smile will turn hollow when he snatches up yet another gold medal and his own heart'll break when Viktor'll pass him in the corridor, pretending that he doesn't know him down to his bones. Yuuri has known that all the time and still does.) (And yet, he fell.)

\---

Here's the funny thing - Viktor wants a happy ending.

He's twenty-two now. Too old for fairy tales, one would say - but Viktor still dreams of finding a way out of this forest, of a true love's kiss and a happily ever after. It'll come, one day, he thinks. (And it's funny, in a terrible kind of way, how Viktor _dares_ \- how he can, when he's been the dragon in so many people's stories and the Baba Yaga and the wicked stepsister and the giant as well. And Viktor knows that and knows that there's no forever for the slain beast and that the stepsister has to freeze to death.) (And yet, he hopes.)

\---

Spring's over, Yuuri thinks. He should get back to Japan, to his coach, to his routine - they have been talking over the phone, but there's only so much one can accomplish that way.

(But Viktor smiles at him, brilliant and happy, and Yuuri finds it very hard to leave.)

\---

"We are going out!" Viktor states one day when they are lazing around his apartment. Yuuri's reading and Viktor's restless, something thrumming in his bones. (Summer's here, summer's here, and Yuuri'll leave with it, but Viktor can't let him go.)

"Are we?" Yuuri asks, oblivious to Viktor's inner turmoil, and turns another page in his book.

Viktor's not discouraged.

"We are. It's going to be fun," he assures the other man. "I don't think you've ever been to a place like this."

Yuuri frowns a bit but listens.

(Viktor can't wait.)

\---

Turns out, Viktor was right.

It's a bar and it's very dark and noisy and hot and Yuuri can't hear himself thinking so he tries not to.

They dance, instead. (And Viktor's scorching hot and so very close, touching him, and his lips are on Yuuri's neck, tasting him, and Yuuri shivers and forgets everything except Viktor and the relentless beat. He moves.)

Afterward, they are sweaty and panting and Viktor drags him to one of the tables and brings some of the wildly colored shots and talks him into trying them. After the first one, Yuuri decides that they are very definitely disgusting and Viktor laughs at him and drinks the rest and the club pulses with the steady beat of songs Yuuri doesn't recognize.

"Yuuri," Viktor says, his eyes bright and just a bit glassy and he grabs his shoulder and won't let go.

"Yeah?" Yuuri says and they are too close and he can smell the sharp sourness of his breath after too many drinks.

"Let me take you away for the summer," he says, "let's run away, together," and his syllables are starting to slur together and Yuuri knows it's a terrible idea, he needs to get back, the season is starting in a few months and he needs to train, he needs to remake himself until he's whole again and Viktor's drunk, he won't even remember it in the morning-

\- and then Viktor's lips are pressed against his, dry and chapped and burning and Yuuri opens up and lets him in and Viktor breathes into his mouth, hot and wet, "please,"

\- and Yuuri says "yeah" and then again and again until he chokes on it.

Viktor drinks it all up, thirsty for more.

\---

Viktor's falling.

(He doesn't want it to stop.)

\---

This is what's going to happen:

Yuuri's going to fall (he already did). Viktor will let him and smile, his teeth white the way bones are.

They'll have the summer and it'll last forever.

But. (They'll say goodbye one day.)

(And they are going to meet each other on the ice again and Yuuri'll see the gold on Viktor's neck and something inside'll turn sour and Viktor's going to watch Yuuri place above him, emptiness lurking behind those bright blue eyes. Viktor's a winner and Yuuri's one as well but no one's ready to give out two gold medals just yet.)

(Yuuri's going to meet him, awkwardly, in between, and pretend he doesn't know the sound Viktor makes when he comes.) (And that's inevitable, really, because none of them can afford to come out at this point of their careers, it would break them.)

They'll drift apart.

(One day, Yuuri'll see his face and feel nothing at all.)

But you need to know: Yuuri'll rather break own heart first. (He always did.)

\---

Remember: This is a love story.

\---

(First: They has this summer and he'll make it count.)

"Where do you want to go, Yuuri?" Viktor asks, in the morning.

Yuuri pauses and thinks. He remembers the beach back and Hasetsu and being young and watching the birds flight higher and higher.

"The sea." He says, simply.

And so they go.

(Yuuri rents them a mediocre Honda and they drive east towards the coast. They stop at cheap motels for the night and make love in sheets used a thousand times before and buy grapes at roadside stands, ripe to bursting, and the juice runs down Yuuri's fingers when he tries to eat them, sticky and sweet and Viktor grins, leans forwards and licks it off.)

America swallows them whole like Jonah's whale. They let her.

It's still summer, it's still summer, Yuuri repeats to himself every night like a prayer before the night swallows him.

\---

"So - this is it," Viktor says when they stop.

It's barely morning and the sky hasn't settled on a color for today and Viktor opens the car door and feels the sea, crisp, salty and airy. It's still cold, the sun hesitantly rising up and the beach's empty.

They get out of the car and walk down the sand.

The waves crash against the sand and again and again and when they get closer, a seagull flies right over Viktor's head and he jerks away, surprised and Yuuri chuckles in amusement and takes his hand. It's very cold, but he holds on all the same.

Sun rises up. They watch the seagulls.

(Viktor doesn't think about Saint Peterburg. Not at all.)

\---

Later, they are sitting on the beach, looking at the sky, when he says it.

"Tell me about Vancouver," Yuuri demands softly and pointedly does not look at him.

Viktor watches the stars, very far away and very cold.

"What do you want to hear, Yuuri?" He says, oh-so-quietly. "Do you want me to say I'm sorry?" He pauses. "I am, you know."

It's almost cold, now, the day's heat gone and the chill nips at him, slowly and curiously.

"I want to know why did you do it," Yuuri elaborates and raises one hand, reaching out for something out there in the void. Viktor stares at it - it's slender, pale and very long.

"The thing is, Yuuri - they don't ask you, not really," he says, and it's almost lazy, sluggish, hiding the desperation underneath. "They come and take a look at you and - _decide_ that you are somehow not good enough, not good enough for them, for your own _country-_ " and he has to stop and put himself together, but thank god Yuuri's still not looking at him.

"And - that's when they do it. And the worst part, Yuuri, you know what the worst part is?" He doesn't give him time to answer and continues, desperate to finally get it out. "They don't even bother telling you. I had to ask Yakov to know for sure."

Yuuri's face is very blank. He lets his hand fall back down.

"You could have gone public," he says, and it's not even a question.

"I could - I should," Viktor agrees. "But, Yuuri - I didn't. I didn't say a thing and I'm not proud of it," and now the words come falling down like an avalanche and he can't stop, "and this may have broken me, but if I did speak out, they would take away the ice from me and I'm not sure whether I could-" his voice breaks.

"If you'd known," and Yuuri's voice is trembling now, "if you did, would you do it again?"

Viktor looks at him and there are tears in his eyes. He doesn't answer.

\---

After that, everything comes crashing down.

Yuuri tells him about hating himself, about never being good enough, about broken bones and the voice in his head and Viktor talks about empty spaces, families torn apart and false saints. Viktor paints his secrets on his skin and Yuuri whispers his into his ears and they hold each in the night tight and Yuuri tries hard to remember that all of this will be gone when this summer goes out, but it feels so real and he wants it wants it so bad just for a little longer-

They drive back and take their time.

\---

Viktor feels like a new man. (They say America does this to you, but he knows the truth.)

This is what happens: they drive back and Viktor picks the music and they listen to AC/DC and Nicki Minaj and David Bowie and an incredibly disturbing Russian singing duo and Yuuri bans him from introducing any other weird songs and Viktor ignores him, singing very loud and very off-key.

(This is what happens: Viktor's never had a proper friend or lover and he doesn't know how to do this, but wants to do this right all the same.)

It's summer and Viktor's in love. He's still not a good man, but for the first time in forever, he thinks that he could learn to be one.

\---

It's getting dark and there are in another motel and it's starting to blend together, all of this cheap furniture and dim light bulbs, but Yuuri tries to remember, because memories he can keep, if nothing else.

He's lying on the bed when he hears a soft tune and looks up. Viktor's smiling at him, holding an iPod in his hands and there's Ray Charles on.

"May I?" Viktor asks and reaches out with one hand.

Yuuri takes it.

They dance, swaying slowly to the tender melody and Viktor kisses his neck, whispering the lyrics into his ear and Yuuri's heart breaks a bit more when he hears it.

"I'm gonna love you like nobody's loved you, come rain or come shine," Viktor promises and Yuuri shudders and pretends not to see Rome burning.

\---

They're almost back.

Viktor's watching Yuuri from his seat, half asleep, and thinks about the future. (They are getting to the last pages now, and the dragons have been slain and they are both safe and sound and the happy ending's just around the corner. He'll ask him, soon - whether he wants to stay for good, whether he wants him to go with him, and Viktor feels breathless when he imagines what he's going to say.)

\---

The last night, Yuuri doesn't remember - he dreams.

(And it was, _it is_ so easy to dream, with Viktor - Viktor who is radiant and bright and tall and laughs carelessly for the world to see and bites on his own lips to keep himself from screaming, Viktor who pretends that tomorrow won't come for them when the sun goes down, Viktor who lies very sweetly and smiles sharp.)

(Yuuri dares to dream, then, when he's still drunk on him, and he dreams about watching stars slip from the sky and die and he dreams about falling asleep somewhere safe and he dreams about listening to waves crash against the cliffs, about stolen kisses exchanged in the dark and bruised feet tangled under the sheets, purple and red and black against the white and falling falling falling just to be caught.)

Yuuri dreams and wakes up, drowning, gasping for air and thinks, desperation hot and bitter on his tongue, _why_.

\---

When Viktor comes home that day, he finds Yuuri in the doors, his things packed behind him and an ending in his eyes.

"Yuuri - what-" he looks around and splutters, not comprehending anything at all.

Yuuri brings himself to look at him.

"Before I go home," he says, "let's end this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are almost there..
> 
> The Russian singing duo mentioned in this chapter is t.A.T.u. They are very 00' and I have the feeling that Viktor would be so into them.


	6. 2011 - part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor remembers.

"What," Viktor says and his voice just cracks. Yuuri doesn't look away. (He wants to, but he needs to get this right the first time, to make it as painless as possible.)

"I need to go home, Viktor," he says instead, and it's very gentle. "Let's not make it harder than it needs to be."

"But - what are you talking about? Why would you go anywhere? You can stay here, Yuuri, you know that, right? Or - I could go with you, there's no reason to-" Viktor tries and Yuuri has to cut in before he can finish, because he's not sure whether he can hear it.

"Viktor - don't," and Viktor falls silent and just looks at him, suddenly so very young and very fragile.

"Look, I know you," Yuuri says and attempts a smile. "And I know myself. This - thing or whatever this is - it's not working, alright? You've been skipping practice, I haven't been to my - doctor's since April and the season's coming. We can't afford to keep doing this any longer if we want to make it. You need to focus on your training and I need to go back."

And Viktor's quiet and that's not good, Yuuri's ready for anger, screaming and insults, but not silence and Viktor's not looking at him-

"Yuuri," and it's so tender, the way Viktor says his name, "but I - I don't care, I- " and he stumbles, but tries again, "wasn't it beautiful, these last few months? Wasn't it worth it?" and there's something raw in his voice and he looks at him and Yuuri didn't know it was possible to hurt so much until that moment. (Of course it was worth it, he thinks, but there's no reason to make this harder that it is).

Instead, Yuuri shakes his head and tries to keep his voice calm, because he owes Viktor at least as much.

"Viktor - that's not the point." He says and Viktor - it's like he's a puppet and someone cut off half of the strings, because he's suddenly so much smaller, and Yuuri sees that and hurries to continue.

"I mean, are you even listening to yourself? All of this - it's ridiculous, of course you care, of course you want to win, that's who you are! And- " there he hesitates, but he has to do it, no one else will, "I want to win, too. You are holding me back, Viktor, as much as I am."

And Viktor doesn't have an answer for that and that's good, he can end it, Yuuri thinks, and he straightens, determined to see it through.

"So - yeah. We aren't good together, Viktor - I'm a mess and you are, well - _you_ ," he says and Viktor winces and looks away, "so let's end this and get back to skating. Like - look at you. You'll never win the gold like that," Yuuri finishes, trying to provoke reaction.

And it works - Viktor answers, but his voice is faint when he says, "Yuuri - I'd rather have you than gold, I'd rather not skate again," and there's something unsure about it and he can't even look at him, so.

(And he probably would, wouldn't he?, Yuuri thinks with a strange sort of bitterness. Viktor'd let him stay, thinking that love's enough, screw all consequences, Viktor would do it and get worse and fall and twist in the wrong ways and watch someone else get the crown, growing resentful. He'd kiss him hard and bite into his skin and Yuuri would close his eyes and let him do it, pretending not to mind, and it would get worse and worse, until one day, he'd wake up and Viktor would be gone. That's normal - boys always grow out of their toys, in the end.)

"Really?" He says instead, very softly.

And Viktor hesitates, lets out a shaky breath and then he doesn't answer.

"That's what I thought," Yuuri says, the words heavy on his tongue.

He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder and then he reaches out with his hand and gently lays it on Viktor's shoulder and the other man looks at him - and his eyes are glassy and red and full of tears and there are thousands of words being born in Yuuri's mouth. (I love you.) (Please don't cry.) (Don't let me go.)

"Goodbye, Viktor," he says instead, very softly, and then he lets go, turns and walks away.

He does not look back.

\---

Viktor watches him.

(And he wants to stop him, he wants to shout Yuuri's name and grab him, pull him closer and hold him and never let him go, but.)

(I'd rather have you than the gold, Viktor said, I'd rather not skate again, but that's not quite right, is it? Remember Vancouver: He had this choice there, the gold or Yuuri, to skate or not to, to be a good person or to win. He chose then and some things have changed, but Viktor didn't. He's still a winner, he's still hungry and he _wants_ , but he fell in love with winning first and Yuuri second and even though Yuuri chose for him, he couldn't make the choice himself.) (Or maybe he could.) (That scares him most of all.)

He watches.

\----

Yuuri does not cry.

He walks down the stairs (and remembers climbing them up every day, his hands full of groceries and Viktor excitedly chatting about something he saw on the street) and takes the cab (and remembers when he first saw the city and he thought he had an eternity instead of a few months) and gets on the plane (and remembers the excitement and panic burning in his stomach such a long time ago).

He doesn't start crying even when it takes off and flies away from Viktor, away from Detroit and from what they've built there together.

Fifteen hours later, he knocks at the tiny apartment he shares with his coach. The TV's on and he hears a noise when someone gets up. Then she opens the door, opens her mouth and  _sees_ him and freezes.

He's silent.

"Oh, Yuuri," she says, finally, and reaches out for him.

"My boy, what have you done?" She whispers, pulling him into a hug and he drops the bag and reaches back, clutching at her like she's a straw and he's a man drowning.

Only then he starts crying.

\---

He returns to his place when the echo of Yuuri's steps is completely gone.

He closes the door, then, unsure and waits a few moments before he locks it. Then he looks at the place - and that's a mistake because it suddenly seems incredibly big and vacant, in the way it never did before (and that's strange, isn't it, Viktor's lived here alone for more than year and never minded). He hesitates, blinking, and silences that thing screaming in the back of his head, because Yuuri - and that's not something he wants to think about right now, because Yuuri's gone, isn't he, he said that it was for the better and Viktor gets it, because he was  _right,_ in a way, he's been holding him back and maybe he was wrong, maybe this isn't a fairytale, maybe it's a - and then he orders himself to stop, because _no_.

He puts on his iPod, instead, hoping to - and he doesn't know, to fill some of the empty space? to pretend that it's not dead and hollow, (like he is, like he's always been), and the thing hiccups before the white noise clears into a powerful voice and Viktor stiffens, because-

"I'm with you always, I'm with you, rain or shine," the iPod informs him serenely, and that's it, he's alone in the empty place he learned to call home and the walls are rising impossibly high, so white and so tall and there are hot tears stinging in his eyes and Ray Charles's voice is laughing at him and the whole world is spiraling and can't _breathe_ , he can't do it, he can't-

Then he hears an ugly sounds of something shattering and the voice shuts up and he blinks and notices that the iPod's on the floor and _oh_ , he threw it there, didn't he?, he must have-, and he staggers to the sofa and collapses on it, closes his eyes and tries to remember how to breathe.

So there he is, crumpled down like a rag doll inside his empty apartment in a strange city in a foreign country, and the broken iPod accusingly stares from the floor, one broken thing to another, and how pathetic he is, he thinks with a strange sort of glee and digs his nails into his palms until he can't bear it anymore and then for a little longer.

The sun slowly slips down the horizon.

\----

It takes him a very long time to stop.

(And it's incredibly ugly, the whole crying thing, angry hot tears burning in his eyes and outrageously loud sobs, and his face turns red and blotchy as he starts choking, and that's so embarrassing so he tries to get away, because he doesn't want her to see it and faintly wishes to bury himself somewhere deep and very dark, but she doesn't let go and holds him and doesn't say anything.)

It takes him a very long time to stop, but in the end, he does.

She sits him down on the couch and brings him tea and he drinks it, feeling flat and hollow, like there's nothing left in him now that the tears have poured out, and he thinks he'd like to sleep now, the tiredness creeping at him.

"If you don't want to, we don't have to talk about it," she says, then, and he looks up and stares, not quite seeing her. "But - I'm here. If you want to."

He nods.

"I think I would like to go to sleep, now," he says instead and staggers to his bed.

(He's done the right thing - so why this does this feel so wrong?)

\--------

(Morning. Detroit. Training. Go.)

Celestino eyes him curiously.

"Katsuki's late?" He asks flippantly, meeting him on the ice. Viktor's been thorough with the concealer and he _knows_ that the man actually can't see anything, but he touches his face regardless, self-conscious.

"He's not coming," he says and yes, that's good, that's the proper tone.

"Oh?" Celestino doesn't hide his surprise. "Why?"

"He's gone back to Japan," Viktor explains and bends down like he's checking his skates, just to be sure.

"So what, are we going to start or not?" He says when he gets up again and Celestino blinks, but then he shrugs.

"Alright. I was thinking maybe-" and then he launches into some explanation regarding Viktor's quad flip, and that's pretty much nonsense because the quad's his signature and there's no way there's something wrong with that. He says as much to Celestino and the man frowns.

"I mean - don't take this wrong, Viktor, but you haven't done it properly in months," and Viktor scowl and tries to remember and that's hard because almost every single one of his thoughts is infused with Yuuri, but then-

"Oh."

How come he didn't remember that?

(And there it is, he really needs to get himself together, Yuuri was right, but he doesn't know whether that's good or bad.) (He still wants to win, right? So it's probably good.)

(It doesn't feel like it, though.)

So he lets Celestino walk him through it, feeling like a child, and he thinks about Yakov and how the old man would have never let that it go that far, how he would notice the way his moves are a bit sluggish and eyes swollen and stop him. Yakov's not here, though, and whose fault is that, he thinks as he straightens, you called it quits and walked away, so there's really nothing to brood about, (except for the text sitting on his phone for months now.)

And really, he thinks when it ends and he's alone in the locker room, that's what you do, isn't it, you take and push people away, you never settle anything but perfect - that's what makes you a winner, that's who you are, so stop complaining.

(Is it worth it, Yuuri in his head whispers, and he couldn't answer if he tried.)

\---

The morning's not much better - but then again, he didn't expect it to be.

He expects to go to training. After all, he's been slacking off for months, there's really no excuse, but she sits him down and oh, here it comes, he thinks faintly when he has another cup of tea in front of him.

"Yuuri - what do you want to do now?" She asks, and he blinks, because of all the questions he expected to hear, this is not the one.

"...Skate?" He offers faintly. "Train for this season."

She nods.

"Okay. And then what?"

He frowns in confusion.

"Win something?"

"And then?"

And that question makes him feel somehow wrong and she's observing him patiently and he has no idea what she's trying to do right now.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead.

"You want to skate - okay. You want to win something, fair enough. But what I'm asking here, Yuuri, is what do you want to do after that? I know you really love skating, but you aren't doing anything else and I don't know what you are planning to do when you'll retire," she explains patiently and Yuuri's confused even more.

"How is that important?" 

"I don't want you to take this bad, but - you really don't have much time to decide. The doctors have told you, haven't they?"

Yuuri's heart stop.

"They - they didn't." He says heavily.

Her eyes go wide and she explains.

It's pretty bad. Yuuri's got - what? Two, maybe three more years, if he gets lucky - and that's it. (Because of that foot, because of his joints, because of everything, doctors say. It's all coming together.) Even if he hadn't fucked himself all up, he'd be done for in a few years.

And future is there, big, gaping and empty and Yuuri has no idea how to even begin.

\---

Viktor knows what it's like to be empty.

They go way back, see - Viktor's intimate with the way hollowness aches in your chest, has made love to loneliness so many times and he knows how to swallow screams in the dark, how to smile when the world asks you. (Sometimes he has yearned for the way emptiness touches you, lovingly and with such care.)

He's forgotten, though, how it feels - how it really does, when it's there and you're not just trying to remember.

But - there are things you can do, see. To feel it a bit less, to fill in the hollow spaces, to stop  _thinking so much_ \- and of course, it doesn't help for long, it never did, but Viktor longs for it all the same.

He could do it, you know. There's no one to stop him - Celestino doesn't mind as long as he shows up in the morning at the rink, Yakov can't do anything, the same goes for Lilia - and well, Yuuri - Yuuri's not here. He wouldn't know. He wouldn't care.

And it even wouldn't be so hard. He knows all the right place and all the right people, has memorized them, sweaty and hot and something burning in his chest - so. He could do it. He - he wants to.

(And he would do it, wouldn't even think about it so much, a few months ago. That's what he used to do, that's what he's always done, he'd win and drink and fuck, stop, restart and repeat, and it worked, so why wouldn't he now? No one cares, they all just want him to win, no one cares what he does in between - even Yuuri, he thinks bitterly, and just when he thought that he was different.)

(Stop.)

(What did Yuuri say? "Of course you care, of course you want to win, that's who you are," but is he? He can't remember how winning feels. He thinks it probably is good, but when he tries to remember, he sees Yuuri and summer shining in his eyes and the sweetness of the grapes and he can't recall anything but.)

(And the worst thing is - _he doesn't care_. Screw medals, screw winning, screw ice - he knows he's supposed to care about it, but he really doesn't, and that's irony right there, because Yuuri let him go precisely because of that and because Yuuri's not stupid. Yuuri knows what he wants and that's winning, not Viktor, he's been holding him back, that's what he said, and why would he even want him? Yuuri knows him, Viktor has made sure that he does, and he knows that Viktor's no good for anyone and made the responsible decision and walked away and Viktor can't even blame him, that's how bad it is.)

(So. Viktor's winner, it's even in his fucking name, but all he can think about is the way Yuuri touched him before he walked away and isn't it funny, Viktor fucked Yuuri up but Yuuri returned the favor.)

(But - he still _wants_ , see. He wants Yuuri back, he wants it so bad, but Yuuri won't have him and how surprising is that, so there he is, without anyone and anything and he can't even remember how to do the one thing he was good at so what is he going to do now? Maybe he can go and live in the woods, and wouldn't it be fun, no one would bother him there, but but he doesn't even like woods that much and what would he eat anyway, so that's a no-go.)

(Stop.)

(And look at him, he's digressing again, how pathetic. So - really, what does he do now? He's got issues and a whole lot of self-loathing and there's not much he can do with it. Yuuri did make it, he did - but Yuuri has friends and family and coach who cares about him, so no wonder, but Viktor has no-one, and here he goes again, because it's his fault, good job, Viktor, really, quit whining.)

(But - fuck, Viktor wants to make it.)

(He probably shouldn't. He certainly does not deserve it, with all of the shit he's done - but he wants it and it's incredibly stupid, because he still wants Yuuri and he still wants that happy ending and maybe friends and a future to go with them and maybe it won't work out, but he has to try, because _what if_.)

(So there's really the only way of going about it, isn't it? He's going to stay in and look at his phone and try to find some part of him that isn't scared shitless and then, maybe, he'll do it.)

There are ways to fill in empty spaces, for a while. Viktor wants to, but he doesn't.

(He's been running for a long time. Maybe it's time to stop.)

\----

Yuuri's a skater first.

That's easy. He's a skater first and everything (brother son friend) (lover) second and that's just how it is, how it's always been since he picked up the skates and decided to win. He's been Yuuri-the-weird-skating-kid in school and my-little-brother-Yuuri-who-skates and our-son-Yuuri-the-competitive-figure-skater and he's _used to_ it.

He's a skater down to his bones, but apparently, they haven't got the message. (And it's his own body what betrays him, and isn't it ironic, he never let anyone come close enough to hurt him, but it seems that he never needed anyone but himself to break.)

He comes back to the sessions, again, and the therapist asks him to tell her something about himself that's not related to skating, and he opens his mouth and then he hesitates.

(If he's not a skater, then who he is?)

His coach gets him a lot of shiny brochures from different universities and he looks at them blankly. He opens one and then he closes it again and leaves them in his room.

He thinks about Viktor, instead. (He wonders if he made the right choice. He thinks he did, really. How would Viktor like him when his body's all broken and jagged, when he's a failure? He wouldn't, that's what, so it's probably better he walked away when he could.) (Still - maybe, maybe he would. Maybe he would and Yuuri would still be broken then, but he'd have a lover and a friend instead of nothing at all.)

\----

He calls her at two a.m.

(And it sounds so easy this way, but it really isn't.) (Still, remember: Viktor wants to make it.)

"I need to talk to Yakov," he says instead of a greeting.

There are precisely two seconds of silence before Lilia huffs.

"Call him, then," she offers.

"Lilia," he says and doesn't continue.

"Fine."

Viktor exhales. Just before he ends the call, Lilia speaks up again.

"Took you long enough," and it bites just a little bit too gently for her, and Viktor hears "thank you" and "'we missed you" instead.

(And oh, he thinks, maybe, maybe-)

He hangs up.

\---

There's a surprise waiting for him at the rink.

"Yuuri," his coach says and gestures to a tiny boy standing next to her, who's grinning at Yuuri, "meet Kenjirou Minami. He'll be training with you. Minami - Katsuki Yuuri."

"I'm so happy to meet you!" The kid squeals and shakes Yuuri's hand very enthusiastically and he can't help but stare.

Minami's - Yuuri can't even comprehend his energy because Minami's fifteen and he still thinks that he can change the world and for some absurd reason he absolutely _idolizes_ Yuuri, following him like a starstruck puppy. Yuuri's confused, but tries to keep up and every time he talks to him, Minami lights up and starts chattering very quick and Yuuri tries to escape because the kid's _overwhelming_.

One evening, he mentions that to his coach when they are having dinner. She looks at him, surprised.

"Yuuri - don't you realize? Minami and the other kids - they have all grown up watching you on their TV, glued to the screen, cheering for our first golden medalist, wanting to be like you one day. They _adore_ you, Yuuri - you made them realize that skating was possible for any Japanese kid if they work hard enough. You were the one to make them believe that maybe, one day, they could be the one standing at the podium with the world watching. Of course he's happy to be training with you."

And Yuuri wants to protest because that's nonsense, how could it be true - how could he inspire anyone, with his string of second places and injuries and withdrawals, but she sees right through him and shakes her head, frowning fiercely.

"No - don't you dare say anything, Yuuri. I know you don't think so, but you really did change the world for so many of us - and we are _proud_ of you, me and your family and Minami and everyone else, so stop it."

And that's really unexpected and Yuuri has no idea what to say, so he stays silent and eats his soup instead.

Him - a role model? That can't be, he thinks that evening, but when he meets Minami in the morning and the kid smiles at him adoringly, his conviction falters.

\----

Yakov agrees to meet him, of course.

(And maybe that shouldn't surprise Viktor, but it still does, because he hurt the old man, he really did, and Yakov's certainly not innocent, but he's not guilty either, he's somewhere between, and Viktor owes him at least a bit more than silence and the coaching fee.)

(He's been there since the beginning and maybe he fucked up in Vancouver, and badly, but he didn't mean to and Viktor misses him, how could he not. Yakov was a father to him more than Viktor's dad ever was, in so many ways, and that doesn't mean that he wasn't wrong, but Viktor never gave him even a chance to say as much.)

(And if he really wants to, if he really wants to be - better, he needs to start there.)

Lilia comes to Detroit with her husband, but for now, it's only him and Yakov and a vaguely expensive restaurant.

"So." He says when they sit down and get the menus, the awkwardness almost palpable, and Yakov looks at him.

"So."

"How was your flight?" Viktor tries, cowardly, and is rewarded by an exasperated glance.

"It was miserable, but this isn't really what you want to talk about, is it?" Yakov says and Viktor smiles, partly because that's very familiar and partly because he's internally panicking and does not know what to do.

"Oh. Right," he says stupidly and promptly hates himself. (He could probably run, right now, but he really can't - mostly because he owes Yakov as much, but also because it would be very hard to do and Lilia would _hunt_ him down.)

"Look - I know we haven't ended on the best terms possible," Viktor says and Yakov huffs and wants to say something, probably along the terms of "no kidding", but he stops himself before he does.

"I still think that you should have told me, but - I'm sorry, Yakov, I really I am, for how I've treated you. What I've done  - that was unfair and I regret it. I knew that it wasn't your fault, but I needed someone to blame and so I did." He says and Yakov's face is unreadable and Viktor's scared so much, but somehow he finds it in himself to continue.

"I'm not coming back to Russia," he states and it sounds definitive even to his own ears (and a lot surer than he feels).

"What they have done - that wasn't right. I'll finish this season here with Celestino. But, if you would consider it, I would like to - I don't know, talk to you again? Come visit sometimes. Whatever people do." He finishes awkwardly and Yakov's silent and Viktor thinks, great, wonderful, now you've fucked up even this and starts to consider again the possibility of being a hermit somewhere in the woods because that might have been actually one of his better ideas-

"Vitya - I never thought I'd say that, but I'm so proud of you," and Viktor almost jerks and looks up, not quite believing it yet, and there's Yakov and he's smiling at him, a bit sad but very fond.

"I don't know what happened, but - you've changed, haven't you? For better."

Viktor smiles back and nods.

"I - I think I might have, yeah," he says hesitantly.

\---

It doesn't mean it gets easier, then.

Yuuri still struggles to sleep, tries not to think about Viktor (and fails to) and has no answer for the persistent voice asking about the future, but he gets up every day and meets Minami at the rink and tries the new routine with the coach and talks to his therapist and does some exercises the doctor's recommended. And - it's not okay, not really, but he wants to think he'll get there, maybe.

The Grand Prix's getting closer and his routines are feeble, fragmented things and he worries, so much. He can't do as much as he used to, and part of it is the break and part of it is him - some of the spins are completely out of play and the doctor advises him to get rid of most of the quads if he wants to keep himself together for more than this year, so he does that.

Not much remains, he thinks, but his coach disagrees.

And he's tempted, he really is - to add a quad there, a combination spin here and top it off with a Biellmann's, (and it would be easy, if he did that at the competition, wouldn't it), but. (He wants to stay as long as he can.)

His coach watches him perform the free skate again and then she sighs.

"Look, I know you don't think so, but the routine's fine and you can make it into a winning one, alright? Try it again."

"But how?" He demands, feeling desperate. "It's just so - incomplete! If I could just put in one or two quads and some spins, it'd be a winning one for sure, but this-" and he shakes his head, feeling close to crying.

"Stop treating it like a compromise, Yuuri," she says. "The way you do it - it feels incomplete because _you make it_ feel like that. I know it's hard not to be able to do what you used to, but you have to accept that and move on. No one will care if you'll have fewer quads in there if you can stop doubting it and make them feel instead."

"But I don't know if I _can_ ," he says, and she frowns.

"Why wouldn't you? Yuuri - you never won because of your jumps, it was always about the way you moved, how you've made everyone feel. Nothing changed about that - I know you still got it. C'mon. Show me."

And Yuuri still trembles, but he closes his eyes and breathes in and out and when the music starts again, he _listens_ to it. (Maybe the routine's broken a bit and maybe he's broken a bit as well. Maybe he'll never the same as he used to be, maybe he'll have to live like that. Maybe he's a skater and some day he won't be one and he'll be just Yuuri. And - maybe that's okay.)

The song ends. His coach is clapping when he opens his eyes and smiles at her.

\----

A funny thing they don't tell you about not running - it's _hard_.

Viktor comes back to his apartment and closes his eyes and tries not to see Yuri there - and, as usual, completely fails. (Yuuri's there in every space, lying on the sofa, watching TV, smiling at Viktor or making dinner and Viktor did let him too deep, didn't he?)

He goes to the kitchen instead and makes himself some coffee and sits there and thinks.

He and Yakov talked and the old man has awkwardly patted his back and gone back to his hotel, so. That's one thing. (For some reason, he thought that once he makes the first step, it'll be all easy. It's not.)

And now the night comes and Viktor hates that, because with it come the ugly thoughts and doubts and voices asking questions and then he'll start imagining things. There's really nothing worse that, but he doesn't know any other way of avoiding that other than drinking himself stupid, so there's that. He'll just have to sit here and wonder, as usual. (Maybe he should just give up right now. Maybe it'd be better.) (After all, he knows what happens to the monster in the story.)

He's pretty resigned to it by the time he hears a knock on his door.

He frowns. No one comes to visit him, ever - well, except for those strange religious people, but it's pretty late for them. He waits a minute, quietly hoping that whoever it is will go away - but apparently no, because they knock again.

Viktor huffs and then gets up and walks to the door.

"Your manners are getting horrid," Lilia Baranovskaya informs him as soon as he opens the door and glides in.

Viktor tries - and fails - not to look surprised.

"Well, hello to you too," he says, pretty shaken.

Lilia frowns at him and then looks around the apartment.

"What a mess. Have you ever cleaned here?" She asks and he blinks. Then, he smiles. It's very bitter.

"Believe it or no, I used to," he says and goes to kitchen.

"Coffee or something else?" He asks.

Lilia raises one eyebrow.

"Something else it is." He decides and bends over for some of the bottles he keeps in the cabinets.

They end up on the sofa with, him and Lilia Baranovskaya, former prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet, the scariest person he knows and the closest thing a parental figure he has, trading a bottle of vodka there and back and watching a recording of some figure skating contest he hasn't been to. Lilia watches with unconcealed disdain and remarks mercilessly on the hopelessness of most of the competitors and Viktor snorts and lets himself relax, because, god, he's missed her so much.

(Lilia's harsh and brutal, but she also taught him everything he needed to win and stayed up to watched every single competition he entered and let him cry in her pristine white apartment when he had to. When I grow up, he said to her when he was nine, I want to be like you and he still thinks that was one of the better ideas he's ever had.)

When it's over, the TV goes dark. Viktor remains sitting and closes his eyes. It's getting close to midnight and he hears Lilia standing up.

"Are you leaving?" He asks drowsily.

"No," she says, and he honestly couldn't tell that she just drank most of the two bottles, that's how incredible she is, or maybe he's only that drunk.

"I'm here to talk."

Viktor stretches and keeps his eyes closed.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He asks, not quite willing to open them yet.

"No. Catch," and he opens his eyes, confused, and wants to ask what-

And then she dumps the content of her purse on him unceremoniously, and he yelps as medals - golden, silver, even bronze, but mostly golden - start falling on him, hitting his chest, hard and cold.

"What the-" he splutters, not comprehending.

"Language," she reminds him and watches his face change with realization - because these are the ones he left in his apartment back in Saint Peterburg, aren't they-

"Viktor Nikiforov," she says. "Aged twenty-two. Won the Grand Prix Final, four times. The World Championship, five times. The European Championship, six times. The Nationals, seven times. Olympics, one time. The best skater of his generation."

And Viktor hesitates, then, and smiles bitterly.

"Yeah, right," he says. "Viktor Nikiforov, won because someone messed up, because someone had to withdraw, because someone _bribed the fucking judges_. Truly, a living legend."

Lilia gives him a blank stare.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She asks and he chuckles and opens his mouth because he wants to answer, but she cuts him off.

"Because I'm not," she says. "I didn't spend years of my life on you, training you, giving you everything I had just for you to wallow here in self-pity - all because some boy broke your heart," and Viktor chokes and looks up.

"How - how do you _know_ about that?" He asks and she looks at him dismissively.

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are," she says and measures him up.

"So what's it going to be, Viktor - are you going to get himself together or am I wasting my time here?"

"I just want him back," he says instead, weakly, and she almost snorts.

"Then do something, god's sake. He's certainly not going to waltz in if you'll just lie here - get up and show him that you are the kind of person he might actually want in his life."

And Viktor wants to say that _he's been trying to do just that_ , but. (Has he? Lying in his bed and making excuses doesn't quite constitute a consistent effort.)

"I will," he promises instead and she nods.

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear."

Then she turns and picks up her purse and heads to the door.

Viktor watches her, not quite himself yet.

"Oh, and talk to Celestino tomorrow," she adds almost as an afterthought before she leaves. "You really need to clear up things with that poor man first. Text me how it goes."

And then she's gone and Viktor stares at the door and then starts smiling, unbelieving.

_"Best skater of his generation,"_ huh?

Lilia's getting sentimental in her old age.

\----

Just before the season starts, Yuuri comes back to Hasetsu.

He brings his coach and Minami as well and everyone's amazed to see him come back so soon, and he runs away to his room to hide from all of the attention.

He's staring at the leaflets he's brought with him when Mari walks in, and he startles and pushes them away and she looks at him skeptically.

"Look, I'd understand if it was porn, but why would you try to hide - this university thing?" She asks, ever the cynic. He grimaces.

"Uh. I don't know?" He tries.

Mari looks at him disdainfully.

"Sure you don't," she says and leans again the door. "So, what's up? You want to go to university?"

"Yeah," he says, surprising himself. "I think I do, actually."

Mari raises her eyebrows.

"Aren't you a bit late for that?" She asks.

"Maybe," he says and shakes his head. "Look - it doesn't matter. I'm still not sure."

She surprises him, though.

"Like, if you want to go, then do it. I always thought I'd be nice if you could something else than skating."

He snorts.

"Thanks, Mari." He says, and he means it.

"Sure thing," she says and nods. "And really - if you want to, go," she says before she leaves.

And Yuuri - Yuuri thinks he might.

Later, he comes down and there's everyone because apparently nothing and no one goes unnoticed in Hasetsu. Yuuri is startled at first, but there are his coach and his mom and dad and when he recovers enough to speak, he talks to Yuuko and Takeshi and Minako. Minami's calmed down by now, at least enough to watch skating videos with Yuuko's kids and - and it's kind of okay, Yuuri realizes when he's standing there and feels amazed, because yeah, this - this is fine, it really is.

And - maybe he could live like this, he thinks later when he's alone in his room. Maybe not right now but - some day.

\----

It's not simple, not at all.

(Lilia's right, of course she is, talking to Yakov is one thing, and good for him that he managed, but a first step just that and he shouldn't have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the next one.) (And Celestino - well, Viktor hasn't been completely fair to him. Celestino's no Yakov, but that isn't his fault, and Viktor should have known better. There are people he walked over, and he can't really make that up, but he can stop himself from doing it again. So - Celestino it is.)

"I need to talk to you," he says.

Celestino nods.

"Sure."

"I - I think I'm done with America after this season," he says, hesitantly and Celestino - Celestino just shrugs.

"Okay. Figured you might say something like that, sooner or later."

"Oh," Viktor hesitates and he has to check. "So - you are okay with that?"

"Viktor, I might not be a mind reader, but even I can see that you aren't doing here that well," Celestino notes. "It happens."

"Yeah," Viktor says, and he never even dared to hope that it might go so easily. "It happens."

"So, I'm glad you told me, really," Celestino says. "But since we've still got this season before you'll leave, I'm afraid you'll have to get back to training first."

Viktor looks up and returns his smile.

"Okay."

(A funny thing they don't tell you about not running: sometimes it's easy.)

\---

They come back from Hasetsu just to find that the assignments are up.

Yuuri gets Skate Canada and Cup of China, but that's not really important, and he holds his breath until he finds Viktor's name and -

Oh. Viktor's lined up for Skate America and Trophée de France.

(And it's not quite disappointment he feels and it's not relief either, it's something in between, because Yuuri misses him, he does, even when he tries not to. It's impossible not to, frankly - Yuuri tried to keep himself from getting used to him, but failed and now there's an empty space where Viktor used to be and sometimes he forgets about it until he grabs his phone to send something funny or interesting to Viktor - and then he stops and realises that he can't and it starts hurting all over again.)

(Here's the catch - Yuuri thought it'd go away, eventually. He thought that maybe, days would go by and he'd forget the exact shape of Viktor's eyes - and he didn't - and that he'd forget about the way he touched him - and he didn't - and that he'd forget how loud and bright Viktor laughs - and he didn't.)

(But he's still hoping.)

(So Yuuri tries to keep himself away, for his own good. But still, some nights, he still can't help but search frantically for news on Viktor and doesn't know what to do when he finds none.)

\---

Viktor has forgotten what an absolute tyrant Lilia is.

Yakov flies back to Russia, having his own protegés to worry about, but Lilia stays, determined to scream at Viktor twice as much to make up for all the time she's missed. She refuses to move in with him until he redoes the whole flat, calling his it "a hole" and "not even approaching proper standards of living" and Viktor rolls his eyes and does what she wants.

When it's done, it's completely unlike the place he's lived in with Yuuri and he can walk in again without forgetting to breathe.

(And maybe, he thinks, that was her real intent all along.)

So he gets up in the morning and trains with Celestino and it turns out that he's actually a _good_ coach once Viktor listens to him and then Lilia has him practice forms and stances in the ballet studio nearby and when he fails to live up to her standards, she throws creative insults at him and make him do it again and again. Viktor doesn't mind.

Then Skate America's here and Lilia says that he's not that good, but that it will do and he figures out that's good enough. They fly to California, him and his coach and her, and before they send him off to win, he sees Yakov in the stands. The man nods at him gruffly and Viktor smiles and gets on the ice knowing that someone cares.

And there's his routine.

(It was always about loving someone, he made it to be this way - but Viktor understands love better, now, once Yuuri's gone and broke his heart. Love, for him, is a skinny thing, tiny and scarred, but still alive against all odds and when he leaps from the ice, he's thinking about the beautiful boy who took all of him, the good as well as the bad and then let go.)

The crowds rise up when he finishes and shower him with adoration. Viktor stands there and takes it.

(And when they hang a golden medal around his neck, he thinks that Yuuri was wrong - winning feels good, but loving and being loved felt better.)

\----

Yuuri finishes fourth in the short program.

He doesn't skate clean and flubs one of his jumps and his program score is not as good as he hoped for, so he drags himself back to his coach, the word "failure" repeating itself in his head (and he thinks about Viktor who won his competition, about the way he skated to his song, and he feels like crying, because if someone was holding anyone back, it was him doing the holding and certainly not Viktor.)

"Hey! Katsuki! Katsuki Yuuri!" He's off the ice when he hears a voice calling his name, and turns around, confused.

"Over there!" And it's one of the skaters who competed as well, the Thai one, what's his name and he's waving at him and Yuuri looks around himself, thinking that maybe there's another Katsuki Yuuri he might be interested in, but then the other man gets closer to him and smiles at him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I don't think you know me, but I'm Phichit Chulanot," he says and shakes his hand and Yuuri lets him, still very confused. "That was amazing, really! Your performance, I mean - I loved it so much!"

And if Yuuri was confused, he's positively baffled right now.

"What? But - it was terrible," he says, "I mean - I fell right in the middle of it."

But the other skater - Phichit - is still smiling.

"What? No way - sure you fell, that happens! But your routine - it's just so beautiful, all of the feelings you are putting out there. I mean," and he leans in, conspirationally, "of course I knew that you can do that, I've seen your programs before, but it's one thing seeing it in on YouTube and another to see it here in person," he says and wow, that's a lot of words, Yuuri thinks faintly.

"I - thank you?" He tries and winces, because god, he's so awkward, but Phichit apparently doesn't mind.

"Oh, don't! We were all so worried, me and the others, when you had withdraw from the final last year and when you didn't come back, so I'm just so glad to see you here! I'm a big fan, you know," he says and then his phone lights up and Phichit says, excuse me, and checks it.

Yuuri's glad that he doesn't have to answer.

"Me and some of the others are going out this evening - do you want to come?" Phichit asks, suddenly, and Yuuri freezes and thinks about a polite way to say "no, thank you, everyone hates me so that's a pretty bad idea", but then he looks at the other skater and staggers out a fairly unconvincing "that would be nice".

And they so they go, him and Phichit and some other skaters and they don't look at him as nastily as they used to, so that's probably good, but he still spends most of the time frozen in silent horror, not quite sure what's going on. Phichit talks a lot and Yuuri actually _smiles_ at one point and goes to sleep feeling strangely light.

In the end, Yuuri doesn't win.

(He places third, but his coach congratulates him anyway and Minami sends a message with a lot of emojis and Phichit, pretty unbothered by the fact that he himself finished fifth, exclaims excitedly a lot.)

Yuuri doesn't win. He doesn't feel as bad as he probably should.

\---

Here's a fact: Viktor loves Yuuri. (The sky is blue, one plus one equals two and sun rises in the morning. It's the same kind of truth.)

Here's another: Viktor doesn't know what to do about it. (He misses Yuuri when he wakes up, when he goes to sleep and all the time in between. But - Yuuri let him go and maybe that was better than staying because Viktor was a mess, he still is and Yuuri deserves better and when he left, Viktor finally opened his eyes and _seen_.)

It's October and the summer's has gone away for good and the Skate of Canada's on today.

("Are you going to watch", Lilia asked and he nodded and she sighed and said, "well, that's not that surprising" and he smiled and said "did you expect anything else" and she said "no, I really didn't".)

The TV's on and there he is, Viktor thinks, and leans forward when the announcers call Yuuri's name. There he is.

He watches when the music starts and Yuuri opens his eyes and looks straight into the camera (and, _oh_ ) and then he moves.

He watches when Yuuri struggles with his steps and when falls on the quad toe.

He watches and thinks, "this isn't like him" and "what happened".

He watches and thinks, _"Yuuri"._

Here's a fact: Viktor loves Yuuri. (And it's selfish and greedy, because Viktor's not a good man and he can't love in any other way, he'll have affection and turn it into an obsession. Viktor wants Yuuri, all of him and forever, and Yuuri said no, and "you are holding me back" and "we are not good together" and "this isn't working" and Viktor let him go, but not really.)

Here's another: It would be better if he didn't. (Because Yuuri deserves better, because Yuuri chose. And Viktor can't blame, because who would want him in all his ugliness, and maybe he's been trying to be better, but not because of so many people he broke along the way, no - because Yuuri went and did the same to him.)

Here's the last one: Yet, Viktor loves Yuuri. (Because, maybe, one day, he'll be good enough for him.)

(Viktor still isn't a good man. He thinks he's getting closer, though.)

Remember: Even the Beast became human.

\----

Yuuri's learning.

This is what's going to happen: He'll skate for another year or two, maybe he'll win and maybe won't. He'll never be able to do what he used to, but he can build something new instead. (And, he lets himself think, maybe what he's had before wasn't so great in the first place.)

He'll retire, eventually. He'll go to a university and he'll get a degree and a job. He can become a coach - not right now, he's still young and messy, but maybe eventually, when he'll get there.

He won't be alone. There'll always be his family (and how could he ever doubt that, he realizes, the only time they haven't been there is when he didn't want them to) and his friends (and that's not only Minako and Yuuko and Takeshi, but Minami and Phichit and others). Maybe he'll meet someone one day - he doesn't want to, not now, not when Viktor's still there every time he looks, but maybe one day it'll go away. (Maybe it won't. That's fine as well.)

Yuuri's broken and still learning. That's okay - he thinks he can live with that.

The future's there, waiting. Yuuri's not scared anymore.

(He finishes second in the Cup of China and smiles.)

\----

Viktor wins in Paris. (And there's the medal and the applause and the congratulations, but who cares, because this means-)

He'll meet Yuuri in the final.

(He doesn't know what he's going to do.)

\---

Yuuri watches him. (And he's beautiful and graceful, just like he remembers and Yuuri's chest feel tight and he thinks, this means-)

He'll meet Viktor in the final.

(He doesn't know what he's going to do.)

\---

It's like having a fever.

The final's almost here and Viktor's running out of time and he still has no idea what he's going to do once he gets there and every day he wakes up he thinks, that's one day less to figure it out. (That's a lie. He knows what he has to do, has known it all the time.) (The real question's whether he can do it or not.)

His heart is racing and he feels sweaty and hot and he's _scared_ , see - because what if it's still soon, what if he's wrong, what if he tries and fails, what if Yuuri looks at him and pretends not so see, what if he'll hear Viktor out and chooses to walk away, _what if_. (Maybe he's wrong and this isn't a fairytale. After all, he got it wrong before.)

"Are you ready?" Lilia asks the last day.

"Yeah," he says. He's not sure whether he's telling the truth.

It's time.

(It started at the Grand Prix Finale. It seems fitting to end it there as well.)

\---

Canada's cold.

(The last time he was there, it was for Vancouver. Yuuri shivers and tries not to overthink it.)

Yuuri's been training, but he's not here to win, is he? He's done fine in the qualifying tournaments, but there's a difference between doing fine and winning. (And it's not like he doesn't mind, but that's okay. He'll skate as well as he can and maybe he won't win, but that doesn't mean he'll fail.) (And maybe, he can actually enjoy it this time.) (That would be nice.)

He's third after the short program and oh, he thinks, that's not too bad. (He pretends not to see Viktor during the warm-up. That's easier.) (But he's forgotten, haven't he, how it feels to be around him, and Viktor's still so bright and tall and good and Yuuri's chest is so tight when the meet each other in the corridor and he looks away.)

"Yuuri." A familiar voice says, suddenly. Yuuri looks up.

Oh.

\---

And Viktor used to think that landing quads was hard.

He was _so wrong_.

"What do you want, Viktor?" Yuuri says.

"Can we talk?" He asks and Yuuri frowns and opens his mouth and Viktor's heart falls and then something runs across Yuuri's face.

"...Sure," he says, instead.

"I know it's going to sound stupid, Yuuri - but I've missed you," Viktor says and watches Yuuri's face carefully. "After you left, I - well, I've thought a lot about what you have said. I know that I'm not the best person and I'd understand if you don't want to see me again, but - well. I'd like to try again."

"Viktor - it's not like I don't like you," Yuuri says, "but you have to see it was never going to last. Look at you now - I've left and now you are going to win the Grand Prix for sure. I was holding you back and you - well, you aren't really the type to settle for less that the best, are you?"

And a few months ago, Viktor would hesitate. He doesn't, now.

"What? Yuuri, that's nonsense! You aren't second-best anything, you weren't holding me back - " and then he catches himself and tries to continue, "and I'd choose you, anytime, over any medal, because I _love you_ , Yuuri, I do," and there it is, it's out and he can't ever get it back.

Yuuri watches him and his eyes go a little wide.

"I don't know whether I can trust you," he says, eventually and Viktor's face falls. "You are very good at saying things that aren't true."

"Will you let me try, then? To convince you?" He tries and Yuuri looks at him blankly.

"I don't think you can," he says, "but if you want to."

\---

Yuuri stays up late.

(And he really shouldn't, the free skate's tomorrow and he should get some sleep, but how could he when every time he closes his eyes, he hears "I love you".)

(Viktor says things that aren't true, he knows, but he can't help but wish that this isn't one.)

(And here's the thing, Yuuri loves him as well and that's possibly the stupidest thing he's ever done, but Viktor's beautiful in all the way things sharp things are and he'd let Yuuri in and shown him every secret he's had and looked at him with adoration when Yuuri did the same. He loves Viktor because he's so much like him and at the same time completely different and maybe he knew that from the very beggining, that no one else but Viktor can keep up with him, that no one else can make him so much better. Yuuri's in love and needs him, as much as he needs to breathe, but maybe he'll just have to learn to live without air.)

He meets him just before the warm up.

"Nikiforov," he says and nods. Viktor looks at him and something moves in his eyes.

"Katsuki."

And that's it.

(Yuuri doesn't know what he's been expecting.)

When it's his turn, he slowly gets on the ice and looks in the audience. The light's bright and harsh in his face, but he can see Minami yelling, waving the Japanese flag and Phichit with his phone, cheering loudly and his coach is smiling and there's Minako as well and Yuuko and even _Mari_ and - Viktor's watching as well.

Yuuri turns, steadies himself and waits until the music starts.

Then, he moves.

\----

Viktor knows what he's going to do.

(That doesn't make it less scary.)

First - he watches Yuuri.

And that's it, Viktor realises, that's something world has been waiting for all the time, because this is isn't the soft innocence of Yuuri's first routine or the savage anger of the second one or even the sadness of the third one - this one's so serious and mature, achingly melancholic, but when Yuuri moves, it slowly shifts and the wistfulness turns into something different, and Viktor can see longing and faith and - _hope_. 

This is it, the defining moment of Yuuri's career, and Viktor knows that he can't possibly beat that, that he wouldn't _dare_ to and something in him stirs, and-

He remembers.

(The dim lightbulbs, "currently in the second place", the faint glow of silver, "not quite good enough" and blushed skin.)

(The nails digging into his back, "harder" pronounced in a soft accent, gold around his neck and dark eyes watching him with loathing.)

(The terror and loathing, "you should have won" and "I know", the _wrongness_ and the word fraud echoing in his head, a single golden medal, the smell of antiseptic and "is it worth it".)

(The small figure collapsed on ice, the magnolias blooming and trying to remember how to hate,  "good luck", a man falling, a man like him, "I don't think I could break you if I tried" and the quiet darkness, "you should stop by" and feeling weightless.)

(The summer, something warm and bright and soft under his ribs, dragons and Baba Yagas, "let me take you away for the summer" and "yeah" and falling falling falling, the sweetness of grapes, seagulls flying higher and "tell me about Vancouver", secrets whispered in the dark, Ray Charles singing about love and ending in his eyes.)

("We aren't good together," forgetting to breathe and the broken iPod,  hollowness aching in his bones and staring into the night, running away and then stopping, "you've changed, haven't you", ugly thoughts and the medals falling, "I just want him back" and "then do something", trying to be a better man and failing and trying again, because _what if_ and running out of time and "will you let me try".)

Viktor remembers.

\---

Yuuri wins.

(And he can't quite believe it, but the numbers are in and he's first and Minami's yelling and he feel dazed and he thinks, faintly, that's the end and something inside him twist, leaving him aching. Yuuri wins and Viktor's second and when they call his name, he steps forward and they hang a gold medal around his neck and he listens to the roaring crowds and doesn't look behind.)

And they are standing there, in front of the world and he's struggling to breathe when Viktor touches his shoulder.

"Yuuri," he say and his tone is unreadable. Yuuri's _terrified_ and has no idea whatsoever what Viktor wants to say, but he steadies himself and turns.

Viktor kisses him.

The whole stadium goes quiet. He hears a soft _thud_ as someone drops something.

"Oh," Yuuri gasps into Viktor's mouth, warm and soft and then the cameras and phones start flashing and Viktor's eyes are laughing at him and god, Yuuri realises, this is really happening, Viktor's licking into his mouth in front of all the skating officials, not to mention _the whole fucking stadium_ and it was probably going to be online in a few seconds and everyone's was going to see it including Yuuri's poor _mom_  and his coach was going to yell at him so much and the journalists were going to eat him alive and-

And Yuuri - Yuuri finds that he doesn't care.

Viktor's here, Viktor _chose him_ , he thinks and his knees buckle a little at the thought and he grabs the other man to keep himself steady.

Viktor smiles into the kiss in return and pulls him closer.

(And it was not going to be easy, but it was going to be alright.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 18/2/2017: general cleanup


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor Nikiforov loves Katsuki Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for homophobic language.

**3.**

 

Kanako regrets a lot of things in her life.

(She regrets the skiing trip that took out her hip and got her pitying looks and condolences instead of a gold at the Olympics. She regrets never asking her husband when he kissed her goodbye and went on a business trip for the fifth time in two months, coming back with another woman's perfume in his hair. Most of all, she regrets trusting him when he said it would never happen again.)

Kanako regrets a lot of things in her life, but when she watches Yuuri smile and greet the world with a medal on his chest, she knows that there's at least one she doesn’t regret at all.

 

\---

 

"Viktor's coming to Japan once the season's over," Yuuri says on the plane.

"Oh," Kanaki says, typing on her Blackberry, attempting to create a suitable press release. "Is he staying?"

Yuuri hesitates, looking at his hand and - that's right, she thinks, Yuuri may have gone and pulled Nikiforov closer when he kissed him, but he's still a bit too quiet, a bit too unsure to be the man everyone's expecting him to be. (That's the problem with Yuuri, really - everyone always sees the straight back and unreadable eyes and no one notices the terror lurking behind them.)

"I think so," he says finally, "yeah."

Kanako squeezes his hand and tries to smile at him (no wonder Yuuri's turned out to be this way, she's always been too serious as well, too many axels and too few smiles).

"He'll stay," she says, gentle. "He'd have to be crazy if he wouldn't."

Yuuri smiles at her, if a bit faintly.

"Thank you," he says, still too serious for his age. "I hope so."

The lights in the cabin are dimmed and Yuuri turns away, closing his eyes. Kanako watches him, young, small and vulnerable and hopes that he'll get a better ending than she did.

 

\---

 

Their apartment is besieged by the journalists for days.

Kanako learns how to repeat "no comment" and "no, thank you" over and over while fighting to make her way to the car that's waiting to pick them up. Yuuri straightens his shoulders and puts on a cold expression, refusing to acknowledge any of the words the reporters throw at him, the good as well as the bad. (Sometimes Kanako doesn't know how he does it when they call him names that make her spine shivery while he just marches on.)

In the evenings, she can hear him talking on his phone, his voice soft and low, and she turns off the light and goes to sleep, knowing that someone's watching over him.

And so they go on.

 

\---

 

One evening, she doesn't hear anything.

She's still in the kitchen, going through Yuuri's program for the Nationals, making sure everything's alright when she realizes that she hasn't heard him ever since he's gone to his room.

"Yuuri?" She calls, cautiously. "Everything's alright?"

No answer.

Kanako waits for a little while and then she gets up, leaving her papers on the table. (She's still worried about him, see - Yuuri's hard and solid on the outside, but she's learned to be watching out for the cracks.)

She knocks on the door to his room and then, when she's starting to worry-

"Come in."

(And that's not good, that's the wrong kind of Yuuri's voice, all small and quiet, she thinks, and briefly closes her eyes before she opens the door.)

The room's dark save for the laptop's screen, shining bright and harsh into Yuuri's face and he's sitting there and staring at it, his shoulders hunched and fists tight. She hesitates when she sees the familiar blue and white and hundreds of letters, shining from the website.

"I thought you decided not to go on the internet," she says, in the end.

Yuuri doesn't even look up.

"Did you see what they call us?" He says, and his voice is still too tight and tired and Kanako's heart breaks for him, her beautiful little boy trying to take on the world. "I mean - I," and then he takes a deep breath, "I knew it was going to be bad, but somehow, seeing it makes it worse."

Kanako stays silent, trying to figure out what to say. (Don't listen to them, Yuuri. We all still love you, they don't matter. Please, don't this to yourself.)

"Viktor says it's going to be fine, but I'm not sure," he continues. "I mean, look at this - how can this go away?," and he pushes himself from the computer, and his eyes are tired and a lot older that they should be.

Kanako briefly looks at the screen and then she looks back at Yuuri and pulls him into an embrace. He goes easily, like a rag doll, she thinks - and it's getting closer to midnight and she's struggling to find words, so she just holds him.

He breathes in and out and then again and they stay like that, for some time.

"I remember how you looked in that hospital, you know," she says, after a little while. "You were so pale - and it was so confusing, all of the doctors and people swarming around, and everyone was talking, and I just remember standing there and looking at you and thinking about why did I let it go so far."

And Yuuri tries to say sorry, but she shakes her head.

"No - don't apologize. My point is - I didn't know whether you were going to make it then and now - look at you, Yuuri. You have gotten so much better and I'm very, very proud of you, especially after what just happened. And - so is everyone that matters,” she says, pausing for a little moment.

“I know it’s not easy to believe it right now, but it's really going to be alright, Yuuri."

"It's hard," he says instead, but he's stopped shaking and so she smiles and lets him go, and looks at him and he looks back.

"It is," she agrees. "But you'll make it."

 

\---

 

When Yuuri looks at his Twitter, this what he sees:

 **Dennis K.** _@DennisTheMannis_

disgusting #GPF2011

 **Chris Poole** _@Chrispooley77_

Is it me or are there gays everywhere? #GPF2011 #Burn #Die #MakesMeSick

 **lizel m** _@emwolfe_

@vnikiforov @katsukiyuuri Can you fags get out of my notification pls, thanks #GPF2011

But when Kanako sits down, this is what she shows him:

 **JessAnna K.** _@JessMes_

OH MY GOD, ARE YOU SEEING THIS #VictuuriKiss #GPF2011 #ImCrying

 **BuzzFeed** _@BuzzFeed_

You won't believe what just happened at the #GPF2011 bzfd.it/2kzGGIg

 **nate ross** _@natedog_

first pang and tong lose to the germans and now @vnikiforov is kissing @katsukiyuuri what's happening #GPF2011

 **Lizzie Warren** _@lizziele_

I KNEW IT YOU SUCKERS PAY UP #GPF2011

 **Johny Weir** _@JohnyGWeir_

You go, @vnikiforov @katsukiyuuri. Nothing but huge respect for you. #GPF2011

 **Phichit Chulanont** _@RealPhichitCh_

I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS WITH MY OWN TWO EYES #GPF2011

 **Phichit Chulanont** _@RealPhichitCh_

CONGRATULATIONS @vnikiforov @katsukiyuuri

 **Phichit Chulanont** _@RealPhichitCh_

I MEAN IM CONFUSED BUT CONGRATULATIONS  #GPF2011

 **Kate L.** _@queersonice_

So proud of @vnikiforov and @katsukiyuuri today. Thank you. #GPF2011

 **Figure Skating** _@figureskatingworld_

Why it matters that @vnikiforov and @katsukiyuuri chose to come out at the #GPF2011: bit.ly/1uZO8zxq

 **M.** **Young** _@imyoung_

everyone is freaking about the #VictuuriKiss and here I am thinking about the poor bronze medalist #GPF2011

 **M. Young** _@imyoung_

i mean can you imagine being this irrelevant #TheThirdWheelToEndThemAll

 **Viktor Nikiforov** _@vnikiforov_

Best #GPF2011 so far - thank you!

  
**2.**

Mari's clever.

Most people don't realize that. Mari Katsuki, sister to Yuuri Katsuki - the "not all do well in school", "it's nice that you decided to stay with your family", "university's not for everyone" girl - Mari's heard all of that and a thousand of other variations and she doesn’t care what people think anymore.

But Mari's clever. She may be bad with letters, but she's got _plans_ for Yutopia and a will to make them happen; once mom and dad retire, she’s going to make it. She's good with people as well, see - she knows them, watches the way they move and speak and sees that this guy is going to buy one beer and sit there for the entire night, but better watch out for this other one, because otherwise he'll be completely wasted by the end of the night.

That's how she knows Viktor Nikiforov is trouble.

(Oh, she knows boys like him - pretty pretty boys who smile too sharp for her taste, all hollow cheeks and hungry stares, the kind you'll love for a night and they'll swallow all you give them and never look back. Mari's no saint and she kissed her share of Viktor Nikiforovs, but she knows the rules - you take a boy like that to bed, not home to your parents.)

She watches her brother kiss Viktor Nikiforov in front of the world and thinks, _careful_.

 

\---

 

Yuuri calls them on Skype some time after that, all flushed cheeks and sheepish stares, and blushes when their mom exclaims and coos and asks when he'll bring "that boy" home.

"I was thinking - New Year? If that's alright?" He says and mom _melts_.

Mari blows the smoke from her cigarette out through her mouth, thick and blue and heavy, watching.

 

\---

 

"Katsuki-san! It's a pleasure to meet finally you," Viktor Nikiforov says in a broken Japanese and bows, all pretty smiles and warm words. Yuuri's blushing and her mother is giggling in the doorway and Mari stands next to her father and watches the scene, eyes sharp and dark.

"No, no, it's wonderful to finally meet Yuuri's Vic-chan," she says, delighted, and Mari exchanges a look with her dad. They know.

Nikiforov looks away from her mom and sees her. Mari looks into his eyes and he stares back, one dangerous thing to another. ( _Careful_ , her eyes says, _I know who you are and this is my brother, I’m watching you_ , and his eyes are dark and challenging, saying _I'm not scared_.)

"Viktor Nikiforov," he says, then, and offers her a hand to shake.

She looks at it before she takes it and lazily puts off her cigarette.

"Katsuki Mari," she says, finally, and her grip is as tight as his is.

Careful.

 

\----

 

The dinner's an awkward affair.

Mari stares at Viktor Nikiforov and he looks back and Yuuri tries his hardest to keep the conversation flowing with their mom assisting while dad becomes surprisingly interested in his bowl.

"It's because of Mari I started dancing, you know," Yuuri tries, and Viktor looks back for a moment.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she was the first one to start ballet classes of us two. She took me to Minako, when I was too scared to go alone, and I’m really glad she did! I was a pretty shy kid, I don’t think I would have managed otherwise. Anyway, she quit, though, some time after that, but I stayed and well, you know the rest."

"Huh. What a shame," Viktor says, and looks at her, somehow making it sound like something she should be ashamed off. "But I get it, I guess. Ballet's - it's just not for everyone."

Mari stares (and they are all chanting in her head, it's not for everyone, not smart, that's okay, Mari’s just this way) and then she smiles, showing her teeth.

"I'm glad I did, Viktor," she says, "because Yuuri turned out to be very good. Shame, though, about you. Just imagine - maybe if you had an older sister who would have loved you, you might have beaten Yuuri at the Olympics fair and square."

Yuuri winces. Dad's mouth twitches. Mom gasps and quickly starts talking about something else.

Viktor Nikiforov's face is very very bland.

It does not get better after that.

 

\---

 

She waits for him that evening, outside the house, and of course he comes.

She watches him approach and lights up a cigarette, the tip glowing angry and red in the darkness.

"You know," she says when he's close enough, and looks at her cigarette thoughtfully, "Yuuri was always such a sweet kid. It was incredible, really - always so happy to help around, the kind of kid every mother wants. Even when they laughed at him at school for doing 'girly things,'" and she makes air quotes, a little part of the cigarette falling off in the motion, "he always tried to be friendly. He was - just  _so_ _nice_."

She brings the cigarette to her mouth, drags the smoke inside her mouth and waits for a little while before she lets it out. Viktor Nikiforov waits.

"I'm not nice, Viktor," she says, then, surrounded by the heavy cloud of smoke and looks up.

"Oh, is this the part when you promise to kill me if I hurt him? Because if that's all, Yuuri's waiting for me," he asks ironically and Mari snorts.

"Don't be stupid, Viktor. We both know that if you do anything to Yuuri, he'll skin you alive himself," she says, watching him sharply. "He's not a nice kid anymore."

She waits for a moment before continuing.

"No, the thing you need to realize is that I'm watching you, Viktor," she says. "I don't trust you - not with my brother, not with my family, not after what you’ve done" and his smile goes a bit tight, "because I know what you are. And if I see something that I don't like, then, well," she smiles and taps her wrist, "tick tock, Viktor. One wrong move and you don't get the chance to hurt him."

"That's fair," he says after a minute and Mari blinks.

"Alright. Glad we understand each other, then," she says, instead and kills her cigarette, turning away.

"Mari!" He calls her name, when she's already several steps away, and she looks at him.

"I'm glad Yuuri has someone like you," he says and she raises her eyebrows.

"Careful, Viktor," she says, "careful."

Nikiforov smiles and Mari smiles back.

(Both of them show too many teeth for it to count.)

 

\---

 

(When Yuuri and Viktor have their first child, several years later, Viktor insists on making Mari the godmother. “But why?” Yuuri asks, then. “Don’t you two hate each other?”

Viktor shakes his head and laughs. “Oh, no, why would you think that? Mari’s brilliant - there’s no one else who would I trust more with our child.”

Yuuri will ask Mari about it as well. She’ll put out her last cigarette and say, “ _Oh_ , he’s a clever one, Yuuri, try to keep him,” leaving him more confused than before.)

 

**1.**

Here are three things Lilia Baranovskaya knows.

One, good things don't just happen - you've got to grit your teeth, pull your hair back and work for it.

Two, you only drink vodka when it's ice-cold and never alone. That's just asking for a disaster, really.

Three, she's never having kids of her own, but Yakov kissed her cheek and got on one knee for her anyway and when he started bringing strays into their pristine apartment, tiny children with the world on their shoulders and scared eyes, she knew that it was going to be alright.

The night she walks into Viktor's apartment in Tokyo, she learns a fourth one - Viktor Nikiforov, for the first time she can remember, is in love.

 

\---

 

"That was just unnecessary," she says to Viktor when they are on the plane flying back to Detroit. Viktor's still riding out his high, eyes all shiny and love sweet in his mouth, but he gets serious right there.

"Was it?" He says, his tone a bit different. Lilia looks at him and thinks about the little child Yakov brought to her, all soft edges and eyes made from glass and about the man he grew into, sharp and transparent. (Viktor's the closest to a son she's ever going to get and when they are sitting there, she finds that she can't remember when he grew so much.)

"Well, at least he's pretty," she says and Viktor smacks her.

 

\---

 

Lilia, for all it’s worth, loves Viktor.

She knows she's bad at loving people - she can see it in Yakov, the way his eyes waver sometimes and she can't tell what's wrong, but that's just who she is. Pointed toes, careful steps and holding gently the barre - that's easy, she'd say, never quite knowing what's wrong when her husband turns away from her just before they go to sleep.

But Viktor's hers, and maybe she can't love him the way people think she should, but Lilia did it her way and she thinks that counts as well. (Lilia didn't smile when he brought her flowers or sung to him before he fell asleep, but she taught him a perfect arabesque and threw Yakov out when he laughed at Viktor's long hair and instead promised him he could be a prima ballerina.)

So Lilia loves Viktor, even if it's not always easy - because Viktor's always been hard, lying to her with his eyes bright and cold, coming home late and wrecked and refusing to listen. And maybe she's starting to get old, but when she watches him on that flight, she can't say when her boy has become so much older, so much different.

She says goodbye to Viktor and flies back home to Yakov thinks about what she knows and rewrites a line.

Four, Viktor loves Katsuki Yuuri.

(She's not sure whether it's a good thing or not.)

 

\---

 

The next time they see each other, it's summer.

The media frenzy has calmed down, mostly, by that time, and so she calls Viktor and asks him to bring his boy to Saint Petersburg.

"Are you sure?" Yakov asks her that night when she's in the bathroom, gently massaging her favorite cream into her skin. (She's getting older, but she's not going without putting up a fight.)

She looks at him and considers, for a moment.

"I am," she says, in the end.

Yakov rubs his forehead and sighs, but doesn't ask her for anything more.

Viktor shows up in her studio three days after, hair bleached with the sun and his skin tanned and she promptly chases him out, because wayward sons are one thing, but ballet classes are sacred in a whole different way.

"Do come in," she says half an hour later, when her students are pouring of the studio - and here they are, she thinks when she notices the other man behind Viktor.

(Katsuki Yuuri - twenty-two years old, a competitive figure skater from Japan, 173 centimeters, gold medalist at the Grand Prix series, Nationals and Worlds, retired a few months ago. Also: the boy Viktor loves.)

"You wouldn't believe how-" Viktor starts right away, but she cuts him.

"I heard you have a background in ballet," she says, looking at Katsuki. The boy nods.

"Show me," she points to the barre and ignores Viktor indignant splutter. Katsuki nods again, but - and here it is, she thinks when his eyes move a little, a challenge accepted.

Here it is.

 

\---

 

"Good," she pronounces afterward, when Yuuri's sweaty and Viktor's staring.

"It's not perfect, but you aren't a ballet dancer. Shame about that."

"Thank you," Yuuri says and she notices it again, the sharp edge in his soft voice, the glint in his eyes. There's a spirit behind that pretty face.

Good.

 

\---

 

She hears voices, that evening.

It's some time after the dinner and they are in their bedroom. When they hear it, Yakov puts down his book and looks at her questioningly.

"- can't, you know that."

And that's Viktor's voice, low and upset, coming from the kitchen, and so she gets up and walks to the door, but she stops here.

They are standing there, and Viktor's been crying - his eyes are glassy and red and something jabs at her ribs and she holds her breath, because they can't see her - and Yuuri's leaning against the kitchen desk, looking away.

Oh.

"That's a stupid lie, Viktor, and you know that," he says, turning back to Viktor - and his eyes are red as well, she notices, "so don't tell me they can't, because the can and they will. Look at Johnny Weir and Rudy Galindo, look at your scores after at the Nationals, Europeans or even the Worlds -  and then explain me again how you are going to make it next season," and there's a clear desperation in his tone and something in Lilia's stomach twists because, at that moment, she knows precisely what they are talking about. (Detachedly, Lilia notes that Yuuri’s right and promptly hates herself for admitting that.)

"And so _what if_ ," Viktor snarls, suddenly, and grabs Yuuri's hand, looking directly into his eyes, "I don't care! Fuck the ISU, fuck the reporters, fuck everyone who doesn't think people like us should be out there! If I'm going, I'm doing it on my own terms, not because they want me to," and he's speaking faster now, "do you understand that, Yuuri? Do you?"

And Yuuri's looking back at him and Lilia can't quite see his expression, but there must be something happening between because then he slumps and shakes his head.

"I just - I'm scared for you, Viktor," he says, and she can see Viktor's expression drop, "I'm done with skating, they can't do anything to me, but - what if -"

And Viktor moves forward and brings Yuuri closer, embracing him, and then there's a silence for a little while.

"I know, Yuuri," Viktor says finally, quietly, and Yuuri's breath is loud and shaky, "I understand. And," there he hesitates, "if you really want me to, I'll retire. But - if I just quit now, what about the kids like us? God, Yuuri, it's stupid, but I just want them not to be afraid, you know?"

Yuuri looks up then, and his eyes are still red, but somehow, impossibly, he tries to smile.

"You know," he says, after a second, "if you'd just told me you loved me instead of kissing me there in front of everyone, we wouldn't have this kind of problem," and Viktor smiles as well, like this is a well-loved joke between the two of them.

"I tried, remember? Beside," he leans forward, secretively, "I don't think I could have kept you secret if I tried. We weren’t exactly subtle before, love."

Yuuri laughs, softly and brings his mouth closer to Viktor’s and that's when Lilia realizes it's time to leave.

(When she comes back to her bedroom, Yakov asks her about it. Lilia smiles.

“Everything’s alright, don’t worry,” she says and kisses him, nice and good.)

 

\---

 

"I like him," she says to Viktor the next morning when they are eating breakfast, both of their better halves still sleeping. "Bring him next time you come visit."

Viktor looks at her, trying hard to keep calm.

“This is because of the ballet, isn’t it,” he says and Lilia suppresses a smile (oh, Viktor’s wrong - Yuri could have been the best dancer in the world, but that’s not really what counts in the end, is it?)

“He’s truly a brilliant dancer,” she concedes instead.

“How come you say things like this about him after a day?” Viktor stares at her, unbelieving. “Is he going to be your favorite now?”

“Don’t be absurd, Viktor,” she reprimands him. “I don’t pick favorites.”

“Oh my god, _he is_. _I_ _can’t believe you_ , Lilia! How can you?”

She does not consider that worthy an answer and helps herself to another cup of tea instead.

"I should have never brought him here, should I?" He asks, after a moment, stabbing viciously his eggs.

"No, most likely not," she agrees serenely and pours him some more tea.

 

\---

 

There are five things Lilia Baranovskaya knows.

One, you've got to sweat and bleed and cry for the good things in your life, but once you've earned them, they'll come.

Two, you only drink vodka at weddings and funerals. Anywhere else's just asking for a disaster, really.

Three, she's never having children of her own, but she has raised a thousand of slender boys and sharp girls and when she looks at Viktor smiling in the photographs, she finds that it's good enough for her.

Four, Viktor Nikiforov loves Katsuki Yuuri.

Five, Katsuki Yuuri, against all odds, loves Viktor back.

 

**0.**

(“Will you marry me?,” Yuuri says, and Viktor’s breath hitches, and Yuuri’s eyes are shy and gentle, and Viktor drops to his knees and takes Yuuri’s hand, because _this is it_ , this is their happily ever after and he’s not letting it go this time.

“Yuuri, _of course_ I will,” and Yuuri laughs a little, a tiny wonder in his eyes, and says, “okay,” and “I was a bit worried for a moment, but that’s good,” and then he takes out the ring, shiny, golden and perfect and looks up and Viktor falls all over again.)

Observe: Two bodies, lost in their little eternity.

 

 _fin_.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all, folks.
> 
> Viktor and Yuuri could have never made it without so many people. This chapter is my love letter to them.
> 
> Thank you all so much - it's been wonderful having you all here along for the ride and I'm incredibly glad you've enjoyed it as much as I did. This story was a tough one.
> 
> This chapter's all nice and edited thanks to exile-wrath who's absolutely wonderful and a joy to know - thank you so much.
> 
> Finally, in case you are interested in my works, my Tumblr's [here](http://savour-y.tumblr.com/) and I'd love to meet you there.


End file.
